


The Long Journey Home

by spelledink



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Drama, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 06:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14949734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spelledink/pseuds/spelledink
Summary: Veronica Santangelo and Sunny Smiles romance. When Veronica is captured during a slave rescue, Sunny embarks on a desperate bid to free her.





	The Long Journey Home

**Author's Note:**

> Romance with Sunny and Veronica. They’re practically neighbors, so why shouldn't they meet?

_**The Long Journey Home** _

**A Fallout New Vegas fanfiction.**

**This story is a nonprofit work of fanfiction. Fallout New Vegas, and the Fallout universe is the property of Bethesda Softworks.**

 

 

Veronica Santangelo worked her way quietly up the road. Only a few more miles until she reached home. The Brotherhood of Steel camp in Hidden Valley. She couldn’t wait to get back to the bunker. The desert wind whipped sand all over her clothes, fine grains getting everywhere. She welcomed the idea of a hot shower rinsing the grime away. One of the few things she still enjoyed about her home.

Home. _Not much of one anymore, not since Christine left. The wreckage of that relationship made her a pariah at the base. In the Brotherhood, the “brothers” definitely called all the shots. A woman who wasn’t a potential breeder was hardly welcome._

Veronica could see the satellite dishes of Black Mountain ahead to her east. If she headed south for a few more miles, she would reach Hidden Valley. To her southwest were Quarry Junction and Sloan. Best to stay away from that area. Too many risks. As she skirted south, Veronica saw a group of caravanners up ahead. Heading for Sloan. The tinkling of a cowbell on their brahmin echoing along the broken asphalt of the roadway.

_The stupid bastards. They’re making too much noise._

Shots broke out from the group, pistol and rifle fire aimed at something coming from the west. Veronica quickened her pace, heading southeast, away from the shooting.

_Everything for miles around is going to hear that. Have to move out._

 A high-pitched scream from the caravan. A shotgun blast, then an unearthly roar.

_Deathclaws. Crap, we’re too close to Quarry Junction._

Veronica could see the beast tear through the caravan. Silencing the trader and his two guards in moments. It’s long, curved talons eviscerating them. The brahmin was next, its shrill cries of terror quickly cut off.

The sound of heavy footsteps behind her. Veronica wheeled, her Power Fist out, ready. Another deathclaw. It leaped, talons swiping down as it pounced. Veronica skipped to the left and struck. The power fist hitting the beast in the side, ribs crunching under steel. The reptile slashed at Veronica. Veronica hit it again, her weapon impacting the side of its head, crushing its skull.

More footsteps. The beast from the caravan. It had heard the struggle.

_Bastard, why can’t you eat that fat juicy brahmin?_

The Deathclaw loped towards her, hissing loudly. Veronica waited, then smashed her weapon into the animal’s hip. Something snapped in the device, a hiss from a broken hose. The deathclaw countered, claws tearing down her right shoulder, to her chest. Opening a wicked gash. The creature tried to attack again, but toppled, it’s left leg damaged. It screamed loudly. Time to leave. Veronica sprinted southwest, towards the lights of Sloan, in the distance. Her head light as blood streamed from her wounds. “

Have to get away from here. Her head reeled as she tottered towards the landmark.

* * *

Veronica’s eyes opened. Her mouth dry and sticky. The sun rising in the sky. Hot and yellow overhead. She peered at her wounds.

_Not good._

One gash caked over with blood, nearly ready to burst open. She looked around.

_Overshot Sloan. Probably out of it from the blood loss._

The spire of the Yangtse Memorial rose nearby, to the north. Veronica rose to her feet, staggering to the top of a nearby hill. She scanned the area, looking for shelter. She froze, crouching down. To her east, a familiar sight tracking her. The deathclaw. 

_It must have found my blood trail._

Veronica crept off the rise, heading west. Hoping she could evade its notice.

_Good thing its leg was damaged. If it had caught me while I was asleep…_

Veronica didn’t want to think about that.

Veronica worked her way past a large sinkhole, the wreckage of a bus inside. Cresting the next ridge, she saw the opening of a large cave. To the south, she could see a cluster of wells. To the northwest, the outline of a town appeared. 

 _Just a little further._

Veronica skidded down the sandy hill, heading towards the town. A rumbling growl sounded. Veronica turned right. Crouching, along a dry creek bed, was her old friend. The deathclaw. Still following. Limping, its wounded leg dragging awkwardly.

_Persistent fucker._

She looked at the power fist dangling from her arm. Broken. Her left hand strayed to her lower back, grasping the hilt of a combat knife, smoothly drawing it. The reptile advanced, on all four legs, swiftly closing distance. Veronica gritted her teeth. The knife clutched in her fist.

_Well, this is it._

A gray and black blur hit the deathclaw from the side, knocking it over. Snarling as it savaged the beast’s throat. The deathclaw threw its attacker off. A dog, rolling nimbly to its feet, teeth bared.

The deathclaw turned towards the dog, then stopped. Three loud cracks rang out. Blood bloomed from the creature’s belly. It staggered, then charged the dog.

Another shot. The deathclaw’s head jerked, and it lurched to the side. Falling dead.

The dog trotted over to Veronica, sniffing her, then wagging its tail. Veronica ruffled its ears fondly, then gasped. A sharp pain from her chest wound. Her vision spun, and she fell to her knees. The dog whined, anxiously snuffling at her face. A shadow fell over her. Veronica looked up.

A figure stood before her. A woman. In snug leather armor, holding a rifle. Her brown hair pulled into a ponytail. Worried chocolate eyes peered at Veronica. Another spasm shuddered through Veronica, and she fell to the ground, unconscious.

* * *

 Veronica’s eyes fluttered open. A clock ticked nearby. She lay in a bed, a light sheet covering her. New, pink scars covered her shoulder and chest. Clad in only a pair of black panties. Her face flushed.

_Where did my clothes go?_

A man entered the room. Balding, a mustache over his lips. “Well, there, young lady,” he said. “Looks like you’re feeling a mite better than you did coming in.” “Where am I,” Veronica asked.

“You’re in the town of Goodsprings,” the man said. “I’m Doc Mitchell, the sawbones hereabouts.” “How’d I get here?” Veronica asked. “Sunny came charging up to my door this morning, carrying you. Cheyenne running around you two, barking her fool head off.”

“That woman,” said Veronica. “She carried me all the way here?” “Yep,” said the doctor. “She’s a tough one, our Sunny.”

Veronica sat up, covering herself with the sheet. “Doctor,” she said. “Can I have my clothes?” He shook his head. “Yours were all torn up and bloody, so I sent Sunny to the general store to get you something to wear.”

Veronica heard the sound of a door opening. “Here she comes now,” said Doc Mitchell. The brunette hunter entered the bedroom, a cloth sack in her hand. The dog, Cheyenne, trotting behind her.

The woman sat on the bed next to Veronica. She held her hand to Veronica’s forehead. “Hmm, you’re feeling better than you did before,” she said. “I picked up some fresh clothes for you, at the store.”

Veronica stared at the woman.

_She’s beautiful._

Warm chocolate eyes. A strong, shapely body flattered by her tight leather armor. “Th…thank you,” Veronica stammered. “Thank you for saving me, oh, and your dog too.”

The woman smiled, eyes sparkling. “Aw, me and Cheyenne don’t mind helping a pretty lady with a lizard problem, right Cheyenne?” she said. The dog yipped happily.

“I’m Veronica, Veronica Santangelo. I’m really happy to meet you,” Veronica said.

“Sunny Smiles,” said the woman, taking Veronica’s hand. “I know, I know, my ma had a funny way with names.” Sunny open the sack. “Let’s get you some clothes,” she said.

Doc Mitchell turned to leave. “I’ll leave you ladies to it,” he said. “Miss Veronica, you stay in town a spell and get some rest. You need some time to get over those wounds.” He exited, closing the door behind him.

Sunny grinned at Veronica. “Doc did a good job on you,” she said. “You were pretty cut up when I brought you in, but you’re looking a lot better.” She pulled some items out of the sack. “Thanks for the clothes,” Veronica said. “I have some caps, I can pay you back.”

“Don’t worry,” Sunny replied. “I got you the best things Chet had at the store, but it’s not like we’re on the Strip,” she chuckled.

She opened the sack. “Here you go,” Sunny said. “Blue jeans, a t-shirt. I got you some extra panties and a bra, too. Socks and a pair of boots for your feet.”

Sunny passed them to Veronica. “And this.” Sunny pulled out a soft set of leather armor, the hide a warm brown. “Next time don’t go fightin’ a deathclaw without some protection.” “Sorry,” said Veronica. “I didn’t expect that to happen.”

Sunny nodded. “You get dressed, then we can go down to the store and see about weapons,” she said. “Your power fist is wrecked, but you can sell it for parts.”

Veronica sat up and started to dress. She dropped the sheet, slipping on the bra. Pulling a black t-shirt over top. “You want to be alone?” Sunny said, cheeks pink.

Veronica glanced at Sunny, unconcerned.

_In the Brotherhood, I never worried about getting dressed in front of others._

“Uh, no worries,” Veronica said. “Privacy wasn’t a big thing at home.”

“Try on the armor,” Sunny urged. Veronica put it on, with some effort. The leather clung to her, showing off her figure. “The tight fit helps you move quietly,” said Sunny. “It looks good on you.”

Veronica slipped on a pair of socks and the dark brown cowboy boots last. “Ready?” Sunny asked. “Let’s go down to Chet’s store and pick out some weapons for you.”

* * *

Veronica followed Sunny out of Doc Mitchell’s house. They walked down the hill to the general store next to a bar with flashing neon signs. Opening the door to the dimly lit store, they were met by Chet, the owner.

“Well, good afternoon,” Chet said. “How can I help you ladies today?” “We’re here to look at weapons,” Sunny said. “We’ll need something for melee and for distance.” “Look right here, said the shopkeeper, waving them to a glass covered counter. “We have knives, machetes, and knuckles for melee. For distance we have pistols, rifles and shotguns.”

“Okay,” replied Veronica. “I have a damaged power fist to sell for parts.” Chet peered at the parts. “I can give you 40 caps for the parts,” he said. “I’ll take it,” said Veronica. She eyed the weapons counter.

_Nothing very powerful._

“I’ll take the brass knuckles and the 9mm pistol. Two boxes of ammunition,” Veronica said, handing over a handful of caps. Chet gave her the items. “Be seeing you,” nodded Sunny. She led the way out of the store.

Sunny peered at Veronica, as they exited. “Sorry there wasn’t much to choose from,” she said. “Maybe we can get something better from one of the caravans.”

“That’s okay,” replied Veronica. “When I get home, I can put something together. I’m pretty handy in the workshop.” “Good with your hands?” Sunny smirked. Veronica blushed. “I do alright,” she replied. Sunny chuckled lightly.

“I was gonna go down to the Springs, to check on things,” said Sunny. “I keep the geckos and coyotes away from the wells. Want to tag along?” “Sure,” smiled Veronica. “That’d be great. You do security here?”

Sunny shrugged. “Sort of,” she said. “I just try to help people out, that’s all. Me and Cheyenne make sure things are safe.” Sunny whistled, calling her dog over. “C’mon girl,” she said. “Time to go hunting.” She turned and winked at Veronica. “C’mon Veronica, don’t lag behind, unless you like the view from there.” Sunny strode off with Cheyenne, swinging her hips.

Veronica shook her head.

_My God, this woman is gonna be the death of me._

* * *

The sun was low in the sky, an orange and red haze spreading over wisps of cloud. Sunny led the way south to the Goodsprings source, the water tanks and wells coming into view. Cheyenne crouched low, ahead of them, watchful.

“We get geckos down here in the evenings, coming for the water, or to hunt,” said Sunny. “Sometimes we get Yao Guai, too, so stay sharp.” Sunny followed Cheyenne, creeping silently towards the springs.

Veronica trailed behind. She pulled the 9mm pistol from her hip.

_Great. Man-sized lizards and mutated bears._

Cheyenne growled, a low rumble from her throat. Three geckos approached, rushing on their hind legs. Sunny’s rifle barked, and one fell. Cheyenne leaped on the second, pulling it to the ground, snapping at its throat. Veronica lined the sights of her pistol on the third. She fired twice, hitting it in the head. It pirouetted as it fell, dead.

Sunny grinned at Veronica. “Okay, you did alright!” she said. “We got one more well to visit, down below. It’s near the road,” Sunny said. “Sometimes travelers get ambushed, trying to get water.” Sunny turned southeast, Cheyenne loping ahead.

As they neared the well, they heard the roar of a shotgun, and the frightened screams of children. Sunny rushed forward, Veronica at her heels. Ahead they heard the snarling of Cheyenne as she fought. By the well four geckos attacked a man guarding two young girls. The girls crouched behind the well, as the man reloaded his caravan shotgun.

Veronica snapped off a shot at a gecko. It staggered, then leapt for the man again. Firing, she dropped the gecko. Veronica slipped the brass knuckles onto her left hand. Another gecko pounced at. She struck hard with the knuckles.

The beast reared back, teeth bared. Veronica held her pistol to its head and fired twice, felling it. Sunny fired her rifle, and a third animal died. With a growl and wet snap, Cheyenne killed the last, her jaws bloody.

The man walked to Veronica, smiling. “Thanks for the help, I didn’t know if I was gonna be able to protect the young’uns from those geckos,” he said. “Roy Barnes is the name, I’m escorting these girls from New Vegas to stay with their aunt, Miss Trudy, the mayor up here.”

“Why’s that?” asked Sunny. “Well, you know, their ma passed on sudden last year,” Barnes said.  “And their pa has a new job running freight for the Crimson Caravan.”

“Does Trudy know about this?” queried Sunny. “Well, I’m not sure about that,” Barnes said, embarrassed. “But their pa up and left three days ago.”

“Alright,” Sunny replied. “We better get up to Trudy’s saloon, so you can tell her about this.” Two blonde girls swarmed Cheyenne. Eagerly petting the guard dog. Cheyenne obliged, allowing the children to rub her ears and back.

“What a good doggie,” the oldest said. “You got those mean old geckos.” “Doggie’s a nice girl,” piped up the other child.

“Well, who do we have here?” grinned Sunny. “I’m Annabelle,” the older child said, pointing to herself. “And she’s my little sister, Lizbeth.”

“Am not little!” said the smaller child. “Am too,” replied Annabelle.

“Seems you made friends with Cheyenne,” said Sunny. “She’s mighty particular about who she likes.”

“She’s a pretty doggie,” said Lizbeth. “I’m sure she likes you saying so, Lizbeth.” smiled Sunny. “You two feeling hungry after your trip?” “I’m thirsty,” answered Lizbeth. “Well let’s get you to your aunt Trudy’s place. How about we get you a nice cold sarsaparilla?”

The little girls giggled. “You know auntie Trudy?” asked Annabelle. “Sure do,” replied Sunny. “So, let’s go see her.”

Veronica smiled, seeing Sunny’s easy way with the children.

_She sure is sweet._

Veronica followed Sunny and the children into the Prospector Saloon. Sunny walked over to the bar. “Trudy,” she said. A woman with short brown hair turned around. “A fella brought your sister’s two girls out here,” said Sunny. “Says their pa went working for the Crimson Caravan.”

Roy Barnes approached. That’s right Miss Trudy,” he said. “Their pa said to bring them to you while he was gone.” “That fool,” Trudy said. “Sending those kids out here alone.” “It’s okay, auntie Trudy,” said Annabelle. “The nice doggie and her ladies beat up those mean geckos.”

Trudy’s eyes hardened. “You mean these children got attacked by geckos?” she said. “What about you, mister?” she said, looking at Barnes. “Can’t keep two little girls safe?”

Sunny held up her hands. “Now, now Trudy,” she said. “Roy did what he could. Veronica, Cheyenne, and me just helped out.”

Trudy looked at Veronica. “Much obliged, Veronica, for helping Sunny take care of my nieces,” she said. “You’re welcome,” replied Veronica, grinning. “It was mostly the nice doggie, though.”

Trudy chuckled. “Then Cheyenne gets a brahmin bone from me,” she said. “Well, I’ll set up a place for them at the house,” sighed Trudy. “I promised the girls a cold sarsaparilla,” said Sunny, putting some caps on the bar. “C’mon you two, have a cold drink before you start playing with Cheyenne again,” she called to the girls. They scampered up, taking the drinks from their aunt.

* * *

“Hey Trudy,” asked Sunny. “Let me have a bottle of rye and two glasses please.” Trudy nodded, handing over the bottle and glasses. “Come and stay awhile, Veronica,” grinned Sunny. “It’s time to kick back.”

Sunny led Veronica to the next room. Tables and chairs lay empty in the room. A pool table lay in the middle of the room. A juke box playing music softly in the back corner.

Sunny sat down at small round table, placing the bottle and glasses on top. “Join me,” she said. “It’s been a long day, but a good one. Mostly thanks to you.”

Sunny poured whiskey into the glasses, filling them halfway. She passed one to Veronica. “I’m glad I could help,” said Veronica. “The company wasn’t bad either.”

“Ooh, you’re a charmer,” winked Sunny. “But it’s nice to be out there with somebody who can hold their own, and watch your back,” she said. “Usually it’s just me and Cheyenne.”

Veronica smiled. “Same here,” she said. “It’s nice the way you watch out for people in town.” Sunny flushed. “Yeah, well, it’s been my home for a while.” “You from here?” asked Veronica.

“No, I came from up Red Rock Canyon way,” Sunny said. “But I’ve been here since my ma died. Trudy’s taken good care of me since, like family.” “Where are you from?” asked Sunny.

Veronica paused, nervous. “Well…my family lives nearby Sloan, in the hill country.” “What are they like?” asked Sunny, curious.

“Well, I have a big family, I guess. Mostly brothers and a couple of sisters,” Veronica said. “We don’t see exactly eye to eye, though.” She took a drink, the liquor burning down her throat. “Really?” asked Sunny. “It’s a shame for family to be fighting.”

“You’re right,” replied Veronica. “I guess that’s why I stay away,” she said. “Scavenging out on the road, so I don’t have to deal with it.” “Why’s that?” Sunny queried.

“They want me follow rules I’m not comfortable with, I guess,” Veronica said, taking another drink. “Well don’t let it get you down, sweetie,” said Sunny. “We’re here to celebrate,” she said grinning. Veronica smiled, then refilled her glass. “You’re right,” she said.

Sunny looked at Veronica. Taking her hand, she pulled her up from her chair. “Let’s not miss any good songs on the jukebox,” she said. “Cheyenne will never forgive us.” “Blue Moon” began playing softly in the background. Sunny pulled Veronica to her, into a slow dance. Her hands rose, to Veronica’s hips. They turned slowly around the cramped dance floor. A soft smile on Sunny’s face. 

_Veronica moved beside Sunny, their cheeks touching lightly. Leaning against Sunny as they danced. Veronica raised her head, gazing at Sunny, their soft breaths mingling. Her eyes so deep, so warm, her lips so near…_

The song ended. Veronica rested against Sunny, blushing fiercely. Sunny stepped away. Her hands dropped to Veronica’s, taking them in hers. “Thanks,” she said, eyes warm. “I liked that. I like spending time with you,” she said, her voice husky. Veronica raised her eyes to Sunny’s. “I do, too,” she said.

Sunny looked at Veronica. “You got a place to stay?” asked Sunny. “Not yet,” replied Veronica. “You could stay at my place,” Sunny replied, then blushed. “I mean, we have an extra bed there.”

“Thanks,” Veronica answered. “That’d be great. I’d like that,” she said. “C’mon, let’s head back,” said Sunny, swiping the bottle off the table. She led the way, Veronica and Cheyenne behind her.

Veronica followed Sunny outside. Sunny led her to a small ranch house across the way.

Veronica paused, in the yard, sitting on an old picnic table.  Eyes lifting to the dark sky, emblazoned with stars. “Beautiful, she breathed. “Yeah,” said Sunny, sitting beside her. She leaned against Veronica’s shoulder, as they looked up.

“Sometimes I wonder,” Sunny said. “A long time ago, they say people traveled to those distant stars, to live on new worlds. I wonder if they’re still there. I wonder what they think when they turn their eyes home?” she said. “Do you think they’d feel sad, to see this world so broken?”

“I know what you mean,” said Veronica. “But beauty still remains in the world, despite what we’ve done to it. In the stars, in each sunrise, in the first breath of each child that’s born.”

Veronica paused. “We look up, and the stars remain, shining down upon us. Like a dream of hope, or a prayer for a better tomorrow. Maybe we need little things like that to help us carry on,” she said, voice soft. Her hand reached out to Sunny’s, their fingers tangling together. Veronica’s head coming to rest on Sunny’s shoulder.

* * *

Veronica woke up, the dull throb of too much whiskey in her head. It still amazed her that two hundred years after the great war, you could find stimpacks, but not a single bottle of aspirin. Grumbling, she rose and quickly showered, the cold water jolting her awake. Dressing, she grabbed her weapons and headed outside. 

Veronica squinted in the bright morning sun, regretting the absence of coffee. She stopped. A familiar shape was headed down the road, dog at her side.

Sunny. She beamed at Veronica. “I figured you might like some company on the road to Sloan,” she said. “It’s been awhile since we went up that way.” “Sure, that’d be great,” replied Veronica, a warm glow in her chest. “We’re southeast of there.”

“Pretty near Black Mountain,” observed Sunny. “Dangerous country up there. Supermutants and radscorpions.” “The supermutants don’t leave the mountain much,” replied Veronica. “And the bugs aren’t a problem.” Sunny frowned. “Are you sure you don’t want me and Cheyenne to see you home?” asked Sunny. “I’ll be fine,” Veronica assured her.

They walked east from Goodsprings, Cheyenne trotting beside them. They paused near the Yangtze Memorial. Veronica looked northeast to Quarry Junction. “I’d say I owe that deathclaw some thanks,” she said. “If it hadn’t been chasing me, I’d never have met you.”

Sunny grinned. “That’s true,” she replied. “First critter that ever did me a good turn, except Cheyenne.” They topped a rise and looked down. Sloan emerged, nestled in the rocks below. They scrambled down and entered the town.

Sunny looked at Veronica. “Can I buy you some breakfast?” she said. “The restaurant here makes a mean deathclaw omelet.” Veronica shook her head. “No, I’ve got to get going…” she said, unwilling to leave. “I’d… I’d like to see you again,” said Sunny. Veronica blushed. “Me too,” she said. “I’d like another dance by that old jukebox.”

“Good, that’s good,” stammered Sunny. “You sure you don’t need any company getting home?”  Veronica shook her head. “Okay,” Sunny said, quickly pulling Veronica into a hug. A thrill ran through Veronica. She turned, looking at Cheyenne. “Now you take care of her, alright Cheyenne?” The dog wagged its tail, with a short woof. “She always does,” grinned Sunny. The pair turned and walked back west towards Goodsprings.

* * *

Leaving Sloan, Veronica walked southeast towards Hidden Valley. Passing through the gaping chain-link fence surrounding it, she headed for the bunker. A pair of bark scorpions came out of hiding, but she made quick work of them with her pistol. Entering the bunker, she headed downstairs. Keying the intercom, she gave the password, and entered the base.  

A bearded Brotherhood paladin greeted her, Gauss rifle in his hands. The helmet for his T-51 power armor sitting on a table next to him. “Hey Ramos, looking sharp,” Veronica said. “You’re back,” said paladin Ramos, eyeing her clothes. “Something happen?”

“I ran into a deathclaw near Quarry Junction,” answered Veronica. “But a local and her dog helped me out.” “Oh?” replied Ramos. “A gallant lady wastelander?” “Shut up Ramos,” muttered Veronica, reddening. “It’s a good thing I like you.”

“That’s because I’m the only one that puts up with you,” grinned Ramos. “Behave yourself this time,” he warned. “Try not to piss off paladin Hardin or apprentice Watkins.” “Who, sweet little old me?” said Veronica, fluttering her eyelashes.

Veronica turned right and went down the hallway, to her sleeping quarters. Placing her belongings on her bed, she headed for the armory. A knight with short brown hair nodded to her. “Hey Torres,” Veronica said. “I ran into trouble with some deathclaws. I need new gear.”

“Really Santangelo?” the woman replied. “This isn’t Gunrunners, we can’t just make new weapons for you.” “Pretty please?” asked Veronica, smirking.

Torres sighed. “Fine, what do you need?” Veronica smiled sweetly. “A new power fist and a laser pistol with energy cells,” she answered, voice coy. “You know I only trust you to set me up.” “I’ll see what I can do,” said Torres. “And stop the flirting, it’s not going to help you.” “Well, darn,” replied Veronica, pouting.

Torres went an alcove, past some T-45d armor. Rummaging in the back, she put several items into a cardboard box. She returned to the counter, placing the box on top. “Here you go,” said Torres. “One new power fist, and one laser pistol with enhanced sights. Ammo with the pistol.”

Veronica beamed. “This is awesome Torres, a new power fist!” she said. “You sure know how to treat a girl!” “I just don’t want you dying out there, Santangelo,” Torres said. “I’m sure the weapons you got topside wouldn’t stop a half-starved molerat.” “Well, thanks,” replied Veronica. “I appreciate it.”

Torres waved her away. “By the way, when are you going to get some real armor?” Torres said. “The leather makes you look like some street-gang party favor.” “Mm,” smirked Veronica. “But it does make my ass look _fabulous_.” Torres shook her head. “Goodbye, Veronica,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Veronica left the armory, retracing her steps to her quarters. A blonde with hazel eyes sat on one of the beds. “Oh, it’s you Santangelo,” the woman sneered. “Had enough trash collecting?”

“At least I have a new laser pistol, Watkins,” said Veronica, voice syrupy. “Find the one you lost running from bugs, or are you still having to carry that crappy 10mm?”

Watkin’s face darkened. “I see you’re not hiding your hair anymore,” she said. “Going to grow it out, or are you still going to keep the man-do?” “Some people like how my hair looks, Melissa,” replied Veronica, glaring. “What, some wasteland skank you’ve got your eye on?” sniped Watkins. “How about you?” argued Veronica. “Attract any men with that lazy eye?”

A cough from the doorway caught their attention. A woman in red scribe’s robes, brown hair pulled back into a bun. Her green eyes surveyed the other women with annoyance. Linda Schuler, the chief scribe.

“It’s hard enough for women in the Brotherhood without you two arguing like hormonal teenagers,” she said, voice sharp. “This is a military base, not a schoolyard.” “Sorry Linda,” said Veronica, embarrassed.

Schuler sighed. “Lax discipline and immature antics aren’t going to help you around here, either of you,” she said. “Understood, chief scribe,” said Watkins, stiffly. “Whatever it is you’re supposed to be doing, get back to it,” replied Schuler. Watkins nodded, leaving the room.

“Veronica,” said Schuler. “You really have to stop being so antagonistic. It’s not helping you.” “I know Linda,” said Veronica. “But Melissa just riles me up.” “I know you’ve been unhappy here, the last few months,” said Schuler. “But would it kill you to try to fit in? Not make people uncomfortable?”

“It’s not what I do that makes people uncomfortable, Linda,” said Veronica. “It’s what _I am_. I’ll never be the good little yes-girl and brood mare they want.” “I understand,” replied Schuler. “But the Codex says women have a duty to procreate.” “While the men do whatever they want, with _whoever_ they want,” sneered Veronica. “True,” said Schuler, nodding.

“I’m sick of them judging me, for how I feel, or who I love,” said Veronica, sitting on her bed. “I could’ve been happy here, otherwise.” “I know,” said Schuler, sitting next to her. “But the Brotherhood literally is a man’s world,” she snorted. “As if the name itself wasn’t a clue.”

“Once, I thought things could change, that I was making a difference,” said Veronica. “That I might even be happy here. With… with you.” “Veronica…” sighed Schuler.  “I…I missed you,” said Veronica. “You know it wouldn’t have worked, Veronica,” Schuler replied. “Not here. You were one of my students. And after Christine…” She shook her head.

“You broke my heart, you know,” said Veronica. “We had one night, and that was all.”

“I’m sorry for that,” said Schuler. “I wasn’t fair to you. I shouldn’t have hurt you.” “We could’ve been really great, you know?” said Veronica, softly. “I know,” sighed Schuler. “But you need someone better. Someone stronger. Someone who won’t be afraid to stand by your side.”

Veronica wiped her eyes. “I’m going to head out in the morning again,” she said. “It’s too much, staying here. Feeling like I don’t belong.” “Find a place you do belong to,” said Schuler. “Or someone.” “Maybe I will, someday,” said Veronica. “I hope so.”

Schuler turned, eyes tearing. She lifted a hand to Sunny’s face, stroking her cheek. “Be safe,” she whispered. Schuler left, leaving Veronica in her room, alone.

* * *

Veronica set up camp by Black Rock cave. She poked her campfire with stick, added some extra fuel. It’d been a long week, scouring old Brotherhood sites and Vault-Tec facilities, looking for tech. Now the week was over, and she looked forward to visiting Goodsprings again. _To see Sunny._   Veronica smiled softly. _She’d see her tomorrow._

_Time and again she’d returned to the little town. Eager to spend time with Sunny. Helping her find Broc flowers or Xander root. Clearing out coyotes from Goodsprings cave. Watching Annabelle and Lizbeth, as they gamboled like puppies with Cheyenne._

_Quiet evenings at the Prospector with Sunny. Talking, laughing, shooting pool. Playing the jukebox, and dancing to every slow tune. Laying together in the desert grass, watching the stars, hands entwined._

Laying out her bedroll, she slipped beneath the blankets, smiling as she thought of the brunette, falling asleep under the stars.

The morning sky was red as Veronica awoke. She stamped out the campfire and headed west, over the broken highway. The chasm of Devil’s Gullet just to her south. Topping a rise, she looked towards her destination. Through the morning haze she could see the town.

Her eyes widened, shocked. The houses and trailers of Goodsprings were covered in a pall of smoke. The sound of gunfire echoed in the distance. Veronica broke into a run, her power fist at the ready, pistol at her side.

As she approached the Prospector saloon, she saw the reason for the smoke. Caesar’s Legion.

_At least two contubernia attacking. About sixteen men.More than enough to take Goodsprings. A slave grab, most likely._

Shots from the Legion attackers peppered the saloon, where the settlers had gathered to defend themselves.

_Kill the officers first._

Veronica pulled her laser pistol, moving from building to building.

 _Found one._  

A tall man wearing a Legion tunic and a plumed helmet. Veronica fired. The laser struck him between the shoulder blades, dropping him. A nearby recruit turned on Veronica, firing a shotgun. The pellets whipped by Veronica, nearly striking her. She snapped off two shots, taking him in the throat. He fell.

Veronica moved closer to the defenders, throwing herself into a gully across from the saloon. Three men advanced on her. One threw a spear. It landed beside her, quivering as it buried itself into the ground. Another fired a repeating rifle, bullets kicking up the dirt by her head. Veronica fired at the rifleman. He crumpled as the shot took him in the belly.

A loud battle cry. The warrior who had thrown the spear charged. A machete held high in one hand. The blade whistled by Veronica, as she dodged to the right. She struck with her power fist, ribs shattering beneath the blow. Two men rushed Veronica, firing pistols. A familiar rifle spoke twice from the saloon, and they fell.

_Sunny._

A high-pitched chattering sound, to Veronica’s left. A Decanus, firing a machine pistol. Bullets tore the ground at Veronica’s feet. She dove for the saloon’s porch, rolling behind some crates. Whipping her pistol up, she responded. The man’s body erased by the energy weapon’s fire.

Desperate, the legion forces charged. The saloon door opened. Sunny knelt beside Veronica, firing her rifle. Easy Pete next to her, a heavy revolver thundering in his hand. The enemy rushed forward. Pete lit a stick of dynamite, throwing it in a sputtering arc. It exploded, tossing three men into the air, like dolls caught in a whirlwind.

The legion troops pressed on, withering fire rippling across the front of the saloon.  Doc Mitchell fired from a window, taking down one with his laser pistol. Easy Pete staggered, a bullet taking him in the shoulder. Trudy rushed to him, her 9mm pistol dropping Pete’s attacker. Two enemies reached the saloon, machetes glinting in the sun. Veronica sprang forward, power fist thumping as she tore through them. The last man’s head exploding in a mist of blood and bone.

Silence fell over the town. The street littered with the dead and dying. “Looks like they had enough,” said Sunny. “Doc, come look at Pete, he’s been hit.” Doc Mitchell hurried over with his bag. Tending to the old prospector. “Looks like you came back just in time,” said Sunny. “They weren’t expecting you to hit them from behind.” Veronica shook her head. “Too bad it wasn’t sooner,” she replied.

Trudy looked at Sunny and Doc Mitchell. “The girls,” she said, her face ashen. “What happened to the girls?” They were helping Betsy Raines pick some Broc flowers up by the cemetery,” said Sunny. “You think they’ve been hiding?” asked Veronica.

“Let’s hope so,” answered Sunny. “I sent Cheyenne with them, so maybe they’re safe.” “I hope Betsy was armed,” said Veronica. “She had an old 10mm pistol for killing varmints,” replied Sunny. “Let’s look for them,” said Trudy, her face worried.

Sunny led Veronica and Trudy northeast, to the cemetery. Wind swept over the top of it, gravestones covered with brambles and wildflowers. The women spread out. “I got something here,” said Sunny. The body of a legion recruit, shot at close range.

Sunny picked up a shell casing. “It’s from a 10mm,” she said. Signs of a struggle lay nearby. A pistol discarded on the ground. “It’s jammed,” said Sunny. “Betsy’s gun.”

“Look here,” said Veronica. “Another body.” A legionnaire lay on the ground, badly mauled. “Cheyenne,” said Sunny. “Yeah,” said Veronica. “It looks like Betsy and Cheyenne fought here, but the girls got grabbed.” “If they got taken, then Cheyenne will be tracking them,” replied Sunny.

“We’ve got to do something,” said Trudy. “We can’t let those animals keep the girls.” “Legion usually takes slaves southwest, to Cottonwood Cove,” said Sunny. “Then over the water to the slave camps.”

“Can’t the NCR do something?” asked Trudy. Sunny shook her head. “The soldiers won’t leave Mojave Outpost for this,” answered Sunny. “But I know someone in Novac who might help.”

“I’ll help,” said Veronica. “I thought you might,” replied Sunny, grateful. “But I didn’t want to speak for you.”

Sunny turned to Trudy. “Trudy,” she said. “I’m gonna need you to get us all the water, stimpacks, and ammo you can spare.” Sunny turned to Veronica. “We’ll get the supplies and leave right away,” she said. “If you’ve got second thoughts, now’s the time say so.”

“No,” said Veronica. “I’m with you. Let’s follow the trail. If we find Cheyenne, she can help us.”

* * *

Sunny and Veronica set out, going southwest. Veronica could see the walls and towers of the NCR prison to the south.

_Best to stay clear of that. Powder Gangers like their dynamite a little too much._

As they crossed the rocky terrain, they came under fire. _“Yep, too close to the prison,” Veronica thought._ A group of Powder Gangers in prison blue attacked. Firing with pistols and hurling explosives.

Veronica hurled herself towards them. Her power fist crushing one man’s larynx. The laser pistol in her left hand dropped another. Sunny’s rifle coughed twice, 5.56mm rounds silencing the rest. Stripping the dead of weapons and ammunition, the women continued on their way.

The sun began to fade in the sky, stars flaring into life as the sun dropped below the horizon. They’d found a small cave just east of the REPCONN test site.

Sunny built a fire while Veronica set up camp. “What do you feel like eating, Sunny?” Veronica asked. “We got mac ‘n cheese, Salisbury steak, beans…” “Ugh,” replied Sunny.  “I know we were in a hurry, but these old-world foods are pretty disgusting.”

“True,” replied Veronica. “That’s why I packed the finest treat in the old world.” “What’s that?” asked Sunny. “Fancy Lady Snack Cakes,” said Veronica. “Uh, isn’t it Fancy _Lads_ Snack Cakes?” asked Sunny.  “Nope,” said Veronica primly. “Only a _lady_ could appreciate the delicate flavor of the Fancy Lady cake, certainly not some boy,” she sniffed.

“And do you have any of these delights to share?” queried Sunny. “Well, if it’s you, I suppose so,” said Veronica. She passed a package to Sunny. They opened the cakes, Veronica gobbling hers greedily. Sunny tried hers. “Hmm,” she said. “Yes, I can definitely appreciate the _sugar_ ,” she smirked. “You just need to develop your palate,” huffed Veronica.

“Come on, we should get some rest,” said Sunny, settling into her bedroll. “Okay,” replied Veronica. “I hope we can find Cheyenne soon. I’m kind of worried about her.” “Me too,” said Sunny. “But I don’t think she’ll give up on finding those kids. Once she likes someone, she pretty loyal.”

Veronica lay down, pulling a blanket over her. “I like that,” Veronica said. “Being true to someone you care about. Is it weird that a dog is better at that than most people?” “Yeah,” said Sunny. “It is.” “People always hold something back, some piece of their heart,” Veronica said. “Then it’s easier for them to walk away, when things get tough.”

“That sounds like the voice of experience,” replied Sunny, turning to look Veronica.

Veronica nodded. “When I was younger, I fell in love with my best friend, Christine. I was so scared, so nervous, when I confessed.” “What happened?” asked Sunny.  “She said she felt the same way,” said Veronica. “And it felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest.” “That’s great,” replied Sunny. 

“We were so happy, for a while. At least it seemed that way,” said Veronica. “But the place where we lived was…old fashioned. A girl couldn’t be with another girl. We had to hide what we had.” She paused. “What happened?” asked Sunny. “It didn’t last,” sighed Veronica.

“When her family and the elders found out, that was it. She moved away, and I was…devastated.”  Veronica hung her head. “Left there, all alone, everyone hating me. Like I’d done something wrong, just for loving her,” Veronica said.

“But the worst thing was Chris’ reaction when she left. She didn’t cry, she didn’t look at me. She didn’t even say goodbye.” Veronica turned her head, tears trickling down her face. “Damn,” she huffed, scrubbing at her eyes.

Sunny looked on.

_I don’t like seeing her cry. I wish I could…. could make it go away. Kiss those tears off her face._

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry you got hurt,” said Sunny. But I’m not sorry she left.” “Why?” answered Veronica. “Because now I get a chance,” Sunny said. “A chance with you. To see where this goes, between us. And I really want to find out.”

“You do?” asked Veronica. “Uh-huh,” said Sunny. “I do. I really do. I… I care about you, Veronica.” Veronica looked at Sunny, voice trembling. “Me too,” she said. She reached out her hand from her bedroll, grabbing Sunny’s.  They fell asleep, hands still touching.

* * *

Sunny and Veronica woke early, the sky an orange fire overhead as they broke camp. They passed the REPCONN test site as they headed east. The old space center was quiet below. Morning twilight casting it in shadows. The path to it fortified, with barriers and barbed wire. Large figures paced the grounds, hunting rifles in hand. Supermutants. “Looks like the muties took over REPCONN,” said Veronica. “We better stay clear.” Sunny agreed. “Novac’s just a little further west,” she said. “We don’t need to get into a fight if we don’t have to.”

As they passed the center, a sudden growling came from behind them. A shimmering form appeared. A large supermutant, with blue skin. It slashed at Sunny with a bladed board. Sunny blocked the strike with her rifle, falling to her knees under the heavy blow.

Veronica charged, her power fist striking the mutant in the side, shattering its arm. Dropping its weapon, the creature grappled with Veronica, pulling her down. It struck with a heavy fist. Stars reeled in Veronica’s eyes. A sharp crack, and the supermutant fell to its side, struggling to get up. Through blurred eyes Veronica saw Sunny, a .357 revolver in her hand. It’s muzzle blossoming flame. The shot caught the mutant in the forehead, and it fell heavily to the ground.

Sunny rushed towards Veronica, eyes worried. “Are you okay,” she asked. “Did it hurt you?” “I’m fine,” replied Veronica, slowly getting up. “But I’m going to have a mean headache later. He hit like a sledgehammer.” Veronica staggered, legs weak. Sunny caught her, grabbing her waist. “You need to be careful, going hand-to-hand like that,” Sunny said. “I was scared.” “I wasn’t thinking,” said Veronica. “When he knocked you down, I just panicked.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt,” Sunny said, voice soft. Veronica raised her head, caramel eyes meeting Sunny’s as they stood together. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Sunny’s lips. Sunny gasped.

Veronica tightened her embrace. Kissing her again. Swiping her tongue between soft lips, entering gently. Moaning as Sunny’s tongue met hers. They parted, breathing heavily. “God, what you do to me,” breathed Sunny. “You’re not so bad, yourself,” said Veronica. “Here’s probably not the best place to make out, though.”  Sunny grinned. “C’mon, we better push on to Novac, it’s not safe to stay here,” she replied.

Sunny searched the ground for her fallen rifle.  It lay in the dirt, the bolt and magazine cracked. “Crap,” hissed Sunny. “My rifle’s broke. That mutant smashed it up good. It’s a good thing I had this,” she said, weighing the revolver in her hand.4

“We better get out of here,” said Veronica. “We don’t want to meet any more of those things.” Sunny gazed at the fallen supermutant. “I’ve never seen blue ones before,” she said. “He came out of nowhere.” “I’ve never seen them use a Stealth Boy before, either,” said Veronica.

* * *

Moving east over low foothills, Novac came into view. A large tower shaped like a dinosaur emerged in the distance. “Nice T-Rex,” said Veronica. “Yeah, you’d think a wire and stucco dinosaur wouldn’t outlast the bomb,” grinned Sunny. “Go figure.”

“Well, let’s go see this friend of yours,” said Veronica. “Not so much a friend,” said Sunny. “More like a tribe member. My mom was with the Great Khans, so I saw him around camp sometimes.” “Were you in the Khans?” asked Veronica. Sunny shook her head. “Mom died when I was sixteen, and I left the canyon. Didn’t have any other family there.”

“What happened,” Veronica inquired. “I got a job with a caravan going south, tending the brahmins. They were heading towards Primm, to trade. “On the way, I got stung by a cazador, and got really sick.”

“I hate those bugs,” said Veronica, making a face. “Me too,” replied Sunny. “Luckily, the trail boss was good man, and dropped me off in Goodsprings. Doc Mitchell and Trudy took care of me, and I’ve lived there ever since.” 

Veronica and Sunny entered the small town of Novac. Small bungalows surrounded the largest building, the Dino Dee-lite motel. Nearby the structure of the dinosaur rose, grasping a massive thermometer in its claws.

“There’s a shop inside the T-Rex,” said Sunny. “I’m gonna see if I can replace this rifle.” “Let’s go,” said Veronica, following her. Entering the shop, the pair were met by a middle-aged man at a gift counter. “Cliff Briscoe here,” he said. “Welcome to the Dino-bite gift shop, can I help you with something? Care to buy a Dinky the T-Rex souvenir?”

“I’m looking for a new rifle,” replied Sunny. “Can I see what you have?” “No one ever wants to buy the dinosaurs,” the man muttered. “We have some guns in stock, no rifles though,” he said. “I have a nice shotgun here.”

Sunny inspected the weapon, then shook her head. “Doesn’t have the range I need,” she declared. She pulled her broken rifle out. “Do you do repairs? “No, no repairs. I can give you 25 caps for it.” “Deal,” nodded Sunny, taking the caps from the man. “Do you know where Manny Vargas is?” she asked Briscoe.

“He’s up the stairs, in the sniper’s nest,” Briscoe replied. “He’s got the day shift.” “Thanks,” nodded Sunny. Sunny led Veronica up the stairs to the sniper platform. Pausing at a door, they heard two men arguing inside.

_“Ýou need to get over this, Boone,” a man’s voice said. “Carla’s dead. You gotta let it rest.” “Yeah, and you’re just perfectly fine she’s gone,” said a second man, voice cold. “She was my wife godammit! I’m gonna find who sold her to those slavers. With or without your help.” “She was no good for you Boone,” the first man said. “Just a soft city girl!” “You can either help me Manny, or you’re a suspect,” growled Boone._

Sunny looked at Veronica, then rapped on the door. There was a pause behind the door, then footsteps. A man with a light beard answered. “Manny,” said Sunny. “I need to talk.”

Manny Vargas paused, squinting at Sunny. “Wait a minute,” he said. “You used to be at Papa Khan’s camp, up in Red Rock. You’re Rain’s kid…Sunny.”

“Sorry to intrude,” said Veronica. “But we’re tracking some slavers that hit Goodsprings two days ago.”  The other man stepped forward, Boone. A red beret on his head, sunglasses shading his eyes. “Legion?” he asked.

“Yeah,” replied Sunny. “I’m Sunny, Sunny Smiles,” she said. “The slavers grabbed a woman and a couple of little girls. Me and Veronica are trailing them.” “Two women?” scoffed Vargas. “What are you planning to do, join them on the auction block?”

“Shut up, Vargas,” snapped Boone. “What do you need?” “Information if you’ve got it, gun-hands if you can help,” answered Sunny.

“We can’t go hunting with you,” said Vargas. “We have to stay here and guard the town.” Boone nodded. “What about information?” asked Veronica.

Boone frowned, thinking. “There’s a Legion raid camp southwest of here. Slaves pass through there on the way to Cottonwood Cove,” he said. “You might catch them there or find out where they went.”

“Okay, thanks for talking,” said Sunny. Veronica turned to Sunny. “What about your rifle?” Veronica asked. “You need to get a new one.” Sunny shrugged. “I’ll just have to get that shotgun Cliff had,” she said. “C’mon Veronica.” Giving the men a wave, she led Veronica downstairs, and out into the street.

Footsteps followed them. Boone. “Hey, wait up,” Boone said. “Come with me, for a minute.” He led them to a hotel room. “Come in,” he said, opening the door. He turned to the women. “You serious about going after those slavers?” he asked.

“Yes, we got a woman and two little kids out there,” replied Sunny. “She’s got a power fist, so you’re the shooter,” said Boone. “What’d you have?” he inquired. “Varmint rifle, 5.56mm,” said Sunny. “But a mutie over by REPCONN tore it up.” Boone shook his head. “You’re gonna need something better than that if you’re hunting Legion.”

Reaching under a bed, he retrieved a rifle case. Snapping it open, he pulled out a hunting rifle. Polished maple stock, blued barrel. A sniper scope on top. He handed it to Sunny. “I had this in First Recon. I stopped using this rifle after Bitter Springs,” he said. He paused, looking at Sunny. “Maybe you can give it a new purpose.”

Boone handed Sunny four boxes of .308 ammunition. “That’s one hundred rounds. Make it count,” he said. “If things go bad, save one for yourself. Don’t let them take you alive.”

The women paused, shocked. Sunny beamed. “That’s some kinda gift, Mr. Boone,” she said. “I wouldn’t want you going out there without a decent weapon, that’s all,” Boone replied. Sunny slung the rifle over one shoulder. “Thanks, thanks for helping us,” Sunny said. Leaning up, she kissed Boone’s cheek. He dipped his head, awkwardly.

Boone looked at Veronica. “Play it safe, out there,” he said. “You’re military, I can tell. So, don’t get in too deep.” Sunny darted her eyes to Veronica. “Were you NCR?” she asked. “Do I look it?” Veronica smirked.

“Brotherhood,” Boone said, mouth quirking. “Yeah,” Veronica said, nodding. “I’m a scribe with the Brotherhood of Steel. Don’t know for how much longer, though.” She turned to Sunny. “I’m sorry Sunny, I wanted to tell you, but…”

“It’s okay Veronica, it wasn’t my business,” Sunny said. “No, I shouldn’t keep things from you,” answered Veronica. “Especially when I…”

Sunny grabbed Veronica’s hands. “ _It’s okay_ ,” she said. Veronica sighed. “Boone, thanks for your help,” she said. “Especially knowing I’m with the Brotherhood.” Boone shrugged. “You’re killing Legion, that’s good enough for me,” he said.

* * *

Sunny and Veronica stepped outside the hotel room. “So, southwest?” asked Veronica. “Yes, let’s go,” said Sunny. The pair quickly headed down old highway 95. Coming to a turn in the road, they passed a shantytown to their left.

Shots rang out from the building. “Vipers!” hissed Sunny. A group of four attackers. A man and three women. The man pressed his attack, a 9mm machine pistol in his hand, stitching a line of fire at Veronica. Sunny shouldered her rifle and fired. The man crumpled, a .308 round taking him in the chest.

Two women approached, firing pistols. Veronica charged, power fist taking one in the throat, dropping her. She hurled her combat knife at the other woman. She fell, impaled. The last enemy crouched behind a shack, firing a revolver. Veronica stumbled as a .38 slug burned across her ribs. She punched a stimpack into her right side, hissing as the wound bound together.

Sunny sighted in, her shot hitting the last Viper in the forehead. She fell, the battle over. Veronica retrieved her knife and stripped the Viper camp of valuables. “Let’s take a break here,” said Sunny. “Give that wound a rest. We’ll push on later.” The two women napped on a bedroll in the Viper camp. Veronica’s head leaning on Sunny’s shoulder.

The sky flamed copper as the sun set. Sunny and Veronica crouched on a hill above the Legion raid camp. Sunny leaned in to Veronica. It’s getting dark, they’ll be night blind soon,” she said. Two bound prisoners knelt by the campfire. “The slavers are preparing the cook fires,” she said. “If we toss a grenade down into the fire, it’ll get most of them.”

Veronica frowned. “The prisoners too,” she replied. “Look carefully,” Sunny said. “Those men are Powder Gangers, they’re no better than the Legion.” Veronica shook her head. “We need them alive, so they can talk.” “Okay,” said Sunny. “We’ll do it the hard way.”

Sunny stared at Veronica. “Hey,” she said. “Be careful.” She quickly pulled Veronica’s shoulders to her, guiding her into a smoldering kiss. Sunny pulled away with a throaty chuckle.

“That is so not fair,” Veronica whispered. “Now I have to fight?” Sunny winked at her, and got into position on the hill, readying her sniper rifle.

Veronica crept closer to the camp, her pistol at the ready. A shot rang out from the hillside, Sunny’s sniper rifle catching a Decanus in the throat. Veronica opened up, her laser pistol dispatching a Legion recruit. The slavers rallied, laying down heavy fire.

Veronica snapped off a shot at a veteran fighter. He charged, slashing with a gladius. Veronica countered with her power fist, stopping him. Sunny’s rifle barked again, a heavy slug silencing the last of the warriors.

Silence settled over the camp. Veronica entered cautiously, carefully sweeping the area. No more enemies. She paused by the body of the Decanus, retrieving a silenced 9mm machine pistol.

_Might be useful, for infiltrating._

She approached the campfire, looking at the bound captives. Powder Gangers, still wearing NCR prison uniforms.

“You two,” Veronica said. “How long have you been here?” The taller of the two prisoners answered. “About three days,” he said. “They killed four of us, then said we might go to the Fort as slaves.”

Sunny strode into the camp. “Have you seen any other prisoners?” she said.

“A couple of prospectors they caught. And a woman with two kids.  Girls,” the second man replied.

“What did the woman look like?” asked Sunny. “Short blonde hair, about your size, nice figure,” replied the man. “The two little girls were blonde, looked like they were hers. They were holding onto her.”

Sunny looked at Veronica. “That sounds like Betsy and the girls.”

“When did they leave?” asked Veronica.

The taller man answered. “Yesterday,” he said. “Some officer came and took them, said they were valuable.”

“Hey,” said the man. “You gonna let us go?” Veronica looked him in the eye. “We’re leaving now,” she said. “If I cut you loose, you head north. Take what you want from the camp.”

Sunny stepped forward. “If we see you following us, you get what these Legion boys got,” she said. Veronica pulled out her combat knife, cutting the men loose. “Remember, head north,” she cautioned. “We’ll do that,” the tall man said. “You did us a favor, we’ll remember.”

* * *

Sunny and Veronica headed southeast, towards Cottonwood Cover, circling north of Camp Searchlight. A green haze lay over the town. Signs warning of radiation encircling it. To the north, on a hill, they spied a small house.

“We’re going to need some rest, before we go to Cottonwood Cove,” said Sunny. Veronica agreed. “Yes, it’s been awhile since we’ve been able to,” she said. They hiked up the hill to the home. A weathered sign nearby ready _Coyote Mines_.

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s been living here, for a while,” Veronica said. They paused by the door. Veronica held her power fist ready, Sunny held her revolver. They swiftly entered. A ghoulified NCR trooper turned to meet them, it’s body glowing sickly yellow. Sunny fired, the bullet spinning the ghoul. Veronica pounced, power fist shattering its spine.

They searched the house. No more ghouls. They found three med kits and pocketed six stimpacks. Upstairs lay a bedroom, eight bunkbeds inside. _“_

 _For the miners, no doubt._  

“We better get some shut-eye,” said Sunny. She picked a bunk in the back corner of the room, next to an old gun cabinet, taking the bottom bed.

Veronica grabbed the ladder for the top bunk. Sunny grabbed her arm. “Don’t,” said Sunny, her voice soft. “Stay with me.” Veronica looked down at Sunny, her face hot.

Desire shone in Sunny’s eyes. “Please,” Sunny said. “I don’t want to be alone, tonight.” “I don’t know if I’m ready to…” began Veronica.

“Just sleep,” said Sunny. “Sleep beside me, Veronica.” Sunny grasped Veronica’s hands, tugging her to the bed. “Lay with me,” she whispered.

Nervous, Veronica stumbled to the bed, tumbling into Sunny’s arms. Sunny moved over, guiding Veronica onto the mattress, pulling a rough blanket over them. She sighed, spooning Veronica, her arms gently enfolding her.

Sunny brushed a kiss along Veronica’s jaw. “Rest,” she said, pressing her body close. Veronica snuggled in, with a soft moan. Warmth surrounded her, as her weary eyes closed, and she drifted off to sleep.

Morning light trickled in through the holes in worn roof. Veronica stirred, looking beside her. Sunny still slept, her pony-tail undone, hair messy about her face. A soft smile on her lips. Veronica reached out her hand, fingers tracing Sunny’s cheek. A sudden warmth in her chest.

_So beautiful. She makes me feel so… happy._

The revelation brought a hot blush to Veronica’s face. She paused, lowering her head. Placing a kiss on Sunny’s lips. Chocolate eyes opened. Sunny smiled, eyes radiant. She leaned up, returning the kiss. “Good morning,” Sunny said.

Sunny raised her hands to Veronica’s face, cupping her chin. Her eyes warm, tender. “No matter what happens, I’m so glad I’m here with you,” she said.

Veronica shivered, falling into Sunny’s eyes. “We have to go soon,” she said. “I know,” Sunny replied. “Just let me have this, just for a moment.” Sunny kissed her, angling her face, lips gently pulling at Veronica’s. Veronica moaned, allowing Sunny to deepen the kiss. Sunny’s tongue swirled inside, delicately moving against Veronica’s.

Veronica’s arms flew around Sunny, holding her tight. Whimpering as she pushed her body closer, sucking on Sunny’s tongue.

They broke for air, hearts pounding. “Oh, Sunny,” Veronica sobbed, clinging to the other woman. Sunny held her, fingers stroking her back. Brushing her lips lightly against Veronica’s hair. “It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay,” she whispered.

“In the Brotherhood, I always felt alone, after Christine,” Veronica said. “When she left, I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, judging me,” she said. “Like it was my fault. Like I shouldn’t be there. Like I didn’t belong.” “It’s alright sweetie,” soothed Sunny. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That’s all I ever wanted,” Veronica said, voice soft. “To belong somewhere. To be wanted. To be… to be loved.”

Veronica raised her eyes to Sunny. “And with you, I feel… I feel like maybe, maybe there’s a place for me after all. _Someone_ for me,” she said. “There is,” breathed Sunny. “There is.” They lay on the bed, forehead to forehead. Hands linked, fingers woven together.

* * *

Sunny and Veronica headed southeast, from the mine. The road sloped down to the river, ending in a cluster of tents, buildings and docks. The slave corrals. From there, slaves were transported over the river, to the Fort, or Legate Lanius’ camp. Sunny led Veronica to an abandoned group of buildings above the Legion base.

“This is Cottonwood Overlook,” Sunny said. “The Legion doesn’t use it. But we can get a good look at what they’re doing below.” “How do we get inside?” asked Veronica. “Even though it’s a Legion camp, they still accept traders,” said Sunny. “But anyone doing that takes the chance of having a collar put around their neck, or worse.”

“Okay, let’s take a look,” replied Veronica. The walked towards the cliff above the Legion camp. As they approached an abandoned camper and a picnic area. They heard a rustling sound. From inside the camper. Sunny raised her rifle, approaching the vehicle. A gray and black form emerged from the camper.

Cheyenne.

Sunny dropped to her knees, arms wide. Cheyenne walked slowly to Sunny, hobbling. Her left hind leg injured. She sat next to Sunny, leaning against her mistress. “She’s hurt,” said Veronica. Sitting next to the Cheyenne, she ran her hands along the dog’s side and hip.

“Looks like she got grazed by one of those throwing spears the Legion uses. It’s a nasty cut.” Veronica pulled out a pair of stimpacks, and injected Cheyenne in the hip and thigh. “Good girl,” praised Sunny. “You tracked the girls down.”

She pulled a dried piece of brahmin jerky out of her haversack, and broke it into pieces, feeding Cheyenne. The dog gobbled up the treat.

“So, what do we do now?” asked Veronica “If two women show up without trade goods, they’re likely to throw us in the slave pens,” Sunny said. “We’ll have to wait until dark and sneak down to the camp. If the girls are there, we can break them out and slip away.” Veronica grimaced. “That sounds pretty risky.”

“You’re right,” Sunny said. “If we aren’t lucky, it gets ugly, real fast.” 

“I think you should wait up here, with your rifle,” Veronica said. “Me and Cheyenne can go down and get Betsy and the girls. Then we run.”

  “I don’t like it, there’s too many of them down there,” answered Sunny. Veronica shrugged. “We don’t have much choice,” she said. “If the girls are there, they won’t be staying long.” “Okay,” said Sunny. “But if things go wrong, you get out of there.”

* * *

The sun set over the river canyon. The moon casting a ribbon of silver over the dark river.  Veronica took off her power fist and pistol, giving them to Sunny. She pulled the silenced machine pistol from her bag, and several boxes of 9mm ammunition. She checked the combat knife at the small of her back.

“I need to be as quiet as possible down there,” she said. “If things go well, I won’t have to fight. If not…” She shrugged. Veronica took an extra 9mm pistol from the bag. “For Betsy,” she said. “If things get hot, we’ll need every gun.”

“You be careful,” Sunny said, voice fierce. “And come back to me.” She kissed Veronica, eyes anxious.

Veronica whistled to Cheyenne. “C’mon girl,” she said, ruffling her fur. “Let’s get ‘em.” They slowly worked their way down the ridge, to the Legion camp. The pair circled around the back of the main building, by the river. The slave pens lay ahead.

“You,” a voice said behind them. A legion slaver. “What is your business here? Are you buying or selling captures?” “You mean slaves?” asked Veronica.

“These creatures are merely captures,” said the man. “They are far from earning the right to be called slaves.” “I might be buying,” said Veronica. “Who are you?” “I am Canyon Runner,” he said. “Slave-master of this place.”

Veronica neared the pens. She spied Betsy, Annabelle, and Lizbeth huddled in one corner. “What about the woman and the two little girls?” she asked.

Canyon Runner nodded, approving. “You have a good eye, but those are not for sale,” he said. “Why?” asked Veronica.

“The females are good breeding stock,” he said.  “Blonde hair is prized in the Legion.” “Do you see any others that interest you?” Veronica shook her head. “No,” she said. “Then our business is concluded,” replied Canyon Runner, turning away.

Veronica unsheathed her combat knife. She stepped behind Canyon Runner, striking him in the temple with its pommel. The man fell to the ground. Searching him, she found two keys, and a 10mm pistol. Veronica opened the gate to the slave pens with the larger of the keys. She crept over to Betsy. “I’m getting you out of here, but you have to be quiet,” she said. " Betsy nodded, eyes wide.

“Here,” said Veronica. She shoved the 9mm pistol into Betsy’s hands. “Don’t use it unless you have to.” Veronica used the smaller key removing the slave collars from the prisoners. Two other prisoners sat in the pen. A woman and a young boy.

“Listen,” said Veronica to the woman. “We’re leaving, but I need you to be very quiet.” She gave Canyon Runner’s 10mm pistol to the woman.

Veronica led the prisoners out of the slave pens. Following water’s edge, the group circled around a group of tents, heading up the hill to the road. A shot rang out. A Legion Pathfinder rushed them, raising the alarm. Sunny’s rifle spoke from the hill. The man lurched, struck in the chest, and fell.

“Run!” hissed Veronica. More legionnaires rushed up the hill. Veronica turned towards the camp, opening fire. Her machine pistol whirred, and two men tottered to the ground. Rifle fire followed them as they retreated westward. Veronica motioned the captives onward. She ducked behind a building, covering their retreat.

A group of warriors pursued the prisoners. Veronica reached to her belt, removing a single frag grenade. She rolled it towards them. It exploded, shredding the men. A legion recruit appeared out of the darkness, grappling at Veronica.

A shadowy shape leapt, and he fell to the side, Cheyenne’s teeth at his throat. Sunny’s rifle fired again, from further up the hill. A warrior rushed the prisoners, machete raised. Betsy and the other woman fired their pistols, dropping him. More legionnaires rushed forward. One grabbed the boy, pulling him away.

Veronica leaped at the man, her combat knife sinking deep into his belly, blood bursting from his mouth as he fell. Veronica pulled the boy to his feet.

“Go!” she screamed. With a fearful look behind, the boy ran into the darkness, Cheyenne at his side. Veronica turned, firing her machine pistol at the enemy.

Something heavy hit her from behind, driving her to her knees. A legion recruit rushed forward, his rifle butt slamming into her face. Veronica fell forward to the pavement and knew no more.

Sunny looked through the sniper scope, watching Veronica as she held back the legion warriors, firing her machine pistol. She saw Veronica rescue the boy, then whirl to fire at the advancing enemy.

Sunny watched as she fell, a blow from a baseball bat dropping her. A rifle butt to the face finishing the job. Sunny peered through the scope. Watching the warriors drag Veronica away, her body convulsing. 

_Not dead, not dead. She’s alive…alive. They’re taking her. Taking her away._

_To be a slave._

Sunny fired angrily, killing two of the men handling Veronica. More Legion forces swarmed up the hill.

_Time to go._

_I’m sorry, love. I’m sorry._

_Tears rushed down her face. Sunny brought the rifle to her shoulder. She centered the reticule of the scope on Veronica, over her heart. Willing herself to shoot. Her finger tightening over the trigger._

_No!_

_She lowered the rifle, shaking her head._

“I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t.” She wheeled, running off into the darkness. A desperate plan suddenly born in her mind.

* * *

Veronica felt shaking. A rumbling sound beneath her. She opened her eyes. The bright light of the noon sun blinded her. She struggled to sit up. She peered around her. She was in a wagon, heading up a hill. Legion warriors marched nearby. She’d been stripped. A rough brown tunic all that covered her body. Something was around her neck. She lifted her hands, probing. A slave collar.

Someone laughed. “I wouldn’t play with that, if I were you. The bomb might relieve your headache, but the cure is rather permanent.” A familiar voice. Canyon Runner. “Good morning profligate, it seems we both have headaches today,” he smirked. “ _I_ however, am still free. While _you_ will become a slave.

“How did I get here?” asked Veronica. “You were taken in the battle,” replied Canyon Runner. “You fought well, but a woman could never hope to win.”

“And yet I killed many of your warriors,” Veronica said. “Their weakness is their shame,” replied Canyon Runner, shrugging. “Perhaps we should use you in the breeding pens. It might provide us better soldiers.”

Veronica turned, her stomach sick. “Where are you taking me?” she asked. “The training yards,” he replied. “You will learn there, or you will learn on a cross.” “Charming,” said Veronica. “Power is everything here,” Canyon Runner said. “You will either submit, or you will die.”

“Death is better than this,” Veronica said. “I agree,” Canyon Runner replied. “But they’ll give you no easy death. They’ll shame you, degrade you first.”

Veronica looked at Canyon Runner, eyes curious. “Why haven’t I been, already? Isn’t that what you do to women? asked Veronica. “You’re good stock, profligate. You have potential,” Canyon Runner said, eyes measuring. “I won’t waste that for some recruit’s pleasure.”

The wagon drew up to an open area. A platform at the back. Whipping posts and stocks on one side. A holding pen at the other. The wagon stopped. Canyon Runner motioned to Veronica. “Step out of the wagon,” he said. Veronica stood, legs weak. Canyon Runner produced a key and removed the explosive collar.

Two legion warriors grabbed Veronica from behind. “Here, you will be trained,” Canyon Runner said. He produced a new collar, with a glowing blue element on the side. “A slave may wish for death, but they still fear pain,” he continued. “And pain teaches obedience. As you will see.”

He snapped the collar around Veronica’s neck. The legionnaires roughly twisted Veronica around, forcing her to look upon a scene.

A woman, tied to a post, her clothes shredded. A legionnaire wielding a whip. “A slave’s duty is to obey,” Canyon Runner said. “You will be broken, and in breaking you will learn.” “Why are you doing this to her?” Veronica said. “She tried to escape,” answered Canyon Runner. “But there is no escape here. Only punishment for those that try.”

The legionnaire continued to lash the woman, blood flowing with each stroke. The white of bone beneath her shredded back. Her mouth stretched in a rictus of agony.

“No!” screamed Veronica. Struggling, she viciously kicked the shin of the warrior on her left, doubling him over. She turned on the second guard, driving her knee into his groin, taking his gladius.

Veronica leapt towards legionnaire, blade extended, ready to thrust. A sudden paroxysm went through her body, toppling her. A jolt of electricity firing through the collar, driving her to her knees.

Another pulse from the collar. She fell limp, to the ground, her bladder emptying, tunic soaked. Again, the collar fired. Veronica screamed. Her body rigid, trembling. Mouth gaping, agonized. 

“Who would you rather suffer?” said Canyon Runner, crouching by her, voice gentle. “Some nameless slave, or you? What is she but some tribal?” he said. “Would you give your life for her? Or would you rather the pain stop?”

Veronica struggled to rise, but fell again, shaking, as another wave of electricity shuddered through her body.” Veronica lay still, as the whip continued to fall, tears flowing from her eyes as she sobbed in the dirt.

* * *

Veronica woke, head pounding. Canyon Runner squatted by her cage, eyeing her curiously. “What happened?” Veronica asked. “You passed out,” Canyon Runner said. “You fought the collar and lost.”

“You people are animals,” hissed Veronica. “Are we?” Canyon Runner asked. “No, we are the truth of this broken world. That strength alone matters,” he said. “The great lie of the Old World was this: that all men are equal. But that has never been the truth.”

“You enslave people, you torture, you crucify,” said Veronica. “How can you say that is right?” “Look around you,” said Canyon Runner. “The bombs have fallen, and all the world is ash. There is no right or wrong. Only survival matters.”

“How can you be so cruel?” asked Veronica.

“Was the NCR less cruel at Bitter Springs?” mused Canyon Runner. “The women and children they slaughtered cannot say, for they are dead.”

Veronica looked at Canyon Runner, unable to answer.

“Look at the depravity of the Vegas Strip,” Canyon Runner said. Two thousand caps to enter, to wallow in the fantasy of a dead world, while children starve in Freeside.

You call us cruel, but do you think the women selling their bodies in Gomorrah wanted that life? Do you think they had a choice?”

Canyon Runner sighed. “You have the courage of a warrior, so I will say this once,” he said. “If you wish to survive, you must submit. Struggle, and you will surely die.”

“The head woman will come to you today and put you to work. You will listen and obey,” said Canyon Runner. “Work hard and you will live. Resist, and it will go badly.” He rose, leaving Veronica in the pen.

A woman approached. Gray haired, limbs strong from hard work. Blue eyes sharp and knowing. “Fighting won’t get you anywhere,” she said. “It’ll only kill you, or get others hurt.”

She handed Veronica a brown tunic and sandals. “What’s your name?” Veronica asked. “Miriam,” the woman replied. She watched Veronica dress. “It’s time to work,” Miriam said. “Forget the world outside, girl. You’re here now. A slave.”

Days passed, as Veronica fell into routine. Washing clothes in the camp laundry. Rendering animal fat down to make soap. Her body tightened, growing harder from lack of food, and hard labor. She lay exhausted at the end of each day, throwing herself down on the pallet in her tent. Grateful for the blanket that kept her warm, and the straw pillow under her head. Rising each morning to toil again. Losing track of time. Knowing only day and night, work and sleep.

* * *

Sunny stood in Goodsprings. The sun glaring down on her. She’d returned Betsy and the girls home, numbly accepting Trudy’s thanks. Thinking only of Veronica.

_She’ll be at the Fort. But how do I get in? And how do I rescue her once I’m there?_

Sunny gritted her teeth.

_I’m going to have to go back. To Cottonwood Cove. That’s the only way to the Fort. And there’s only one way to get there._

_As a slave._

Sunny stood in front of Boone’s door in Novac. She had to tell someone about her plan, and the sniper understood the Legion. She knocked on the door. “Go away,” a voice sounded from within. Boone. Sunny knocked again.

Boone opened the door, an irritated look on his face. He stared. “You,” he said. “What are you doing here?” “Can I come in?” Sunny asked.

Boone frowned. “Okay,” he said, waving her in. “Now what is it you want?” “Veronica was taken by the Legion, when we rescued the people we were after,” said Sunny. “How?” asked Boone. “Veronica was giving us time to escape,” replied Sunny. “They knocked her down and dragged her away.”

“How do you know she’s still alive?” asked Boone, glaring at Sunny. “I saw her,” answered Sunny. “So, what are you gonna do?” queried Boone. “I have to go to the Fort,” said Sunny. “To help her escape.”

“Going to the Fort means wearing a collar,” said Boone. Sunny nodded. “Uh-huh,” she said. “And you’re going to help me get there.”

“Are you crazy?” said Boone. “Do you know what happens to women at the Fort?” “I’ve got a pretty good idea,” drawled Sunny. “Then quit this now,” Boone said. “For all you know she’s dead, or so broken you won’t know her when you find her.” “I can’t Boone,” Sunny said. “I just can’t.”

Sunny stared at Boone, face anguished. “When they dragged her away, I had my rifle on her, a clear shot to the heart,” she said. “But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill her.”

“You should have. Now she’s a toy those animals can play with,” Boone replied. “Don’t you think I know that?” answered Sunny.

Boone stared at Sunny. “Legion slavers took my wife, Carla,” said Boone. “She was sold out by someone in this very town. By someone I probably call friend.” “What happened?” queried Sunny.

Boone turned away. “I tracked her to Cottonwood Cove. They had her on the block, for sale,” he said. “There were too many of them to fight. So…so I took the shot. I killed her, so she wouldn’t become a slave. It was quick, at least.” Boone stood stiff.

“Boone…I’m sorry,” said Sunny. “I didn’t want to…”

“I’m not finished,” said Boone, face hard. “The worst part, the worst part of all, was that Carla was pregnant. With our son. We’d just found out from the doctor…” Boone tore the beret from his head, twisting it in his hands.

“The funny thing is, I’d do it again,” grated Boone. “I remember looking through my scope, seeing Carla’s tears. Knowing I had the power to take them away. To free her from a life of misery. A life where her child would be taken and turned to serve Caesar.”

“I’m sorry Boone,” Sunny said, tears falling. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Do you see now?” said Boone. “Why you shouldn’t go to that place? No good can come of it.” “I have to try, Boone,” whispered Sunny. “I have to. I…I love her.”

Boone stood silent. “They take women to the Fort. For the men, as a…reward,” Boone said. “Pleasure slaves, breeders. Broken to serve their whim. Do you understand what that means? What they’ll do to you?”

“Yes,” replied Sunny. “I’ll be like any other capture, used as they want.” “You’ll be at their mercy,” said Boone. “And they have none.”

“Do you have a plan to escape?” asked Boone. “Stealing a boat,” said Sunny. “Or breaking into Mr. House’s bunker beneath the Fort. It’s supposed to have an escape tunnel to Hoover Dam.”

“The boats will be heavily guarded,” replied Boone. “The bunker story is probably just that. A story.” “I know,” replied Sunny. “But I have to try.”

“You’d be better off going into the desert, and heading south along the river,” said Boone. “There are bridges and fords below the dam.”

“Well, Boone, will you help me?” asked Sunny. Boone sighed. “If you’re really determined to do this, I’ll help,” he said.

“Thank you,” whispered Sunny. “Don’t thank me,” replied Boone, voice rough.  “If things don’t work, if you can’t escape, don’t let them keep you. End it.” he said. “Her too, if you love her.”

Sunny lowered her eyes. “I… I don’t think I’m capable of that,” said Sunny. “You will be,” Boone said, voice grim.

* * *

Boone and Sunny stood atop the hill above Cottonwood cove. Sunny dressed in a short denim dress. Legs bare, moccasins on her feet. Hair loose around her shoulders. Hands tied with a rawhide cord.

Boone, unshaven, dressed in rusty metal armor. An old hunting rifle at his back, 10mm pistol at his hip. “I can’t believe Cliff had all this crappy gear,” he said. “Well, we need you to look the part,” shrugged Sunny. “No one’s gonna believe you’re a slaver without a disguise.” “Last chance,” said Boone. “You don’t have to do this.” Sunny looked hard at Boone. “Yes, I do,” she said. “For her.”

They walked down to the Legion camp. A pathfinder challenged them. “What do you want here, profligate,” the warrior said. “I have a capture, to sell,” said Boone. “Young, pretty. A breeder.”

The pathfinder nodded. “This way, to the pens,” he said. A slaver approached. “I am Apisi, second to Canyon Runner,” the man said. “What do you have?”  “A capture. The woman is good stock for work or breeding,” Boone said.

Apisi looked at Sunny, running his hands over her body. “Open,” he commanded, tapping her jaw. Sunny obeyed. He looked at her teeth, nodding with satisfaction. “She seems healthy, and of bearing age,” said Apisi. “Two hundred caps.”

Boone shook his head. “Three hundred,” he replied. “She’s strong and used to work.” “Two hundred fifty,” said Apisi. “No more.” “Deal,” said Boone, taking the bottlecaps. “If you find more of this quality, bring them to me,” said Apisi. “Agreed,” replied Boone, walking away.

Apisi looked at Sunny, smirking. “That fool could have gotten more for you,” he said. “Hold still.” He took a collar from his knapsack, strapping it around Sunny’s neck. He pushed a button on it, and a small red light glowed red. “It’s armed,” Apisi said. “If you run, you die. It will take your head before you step ten paces.” Sunny shivered.

Apisi chuckled. “Good, you understand,” he said. “Once you have been trained, you will not need the collar to obey.” Sunny lowered her head, bowing her shoulders to the man. “Get in the pen,” Apisi said. “In the morning, you will go upriver.” The gate closed on Sunny, locking her in. She sat in the dirt, head between her knees.

_This is it. I must find her. I have to make this work._

Boone watched from the overlook, peering through the rifle’s scope. Crosshairs on Apisi’s head. Tempted to take the shot and kill the bastard.

 _Another time._ _I have to look up an old friend and prepare._

_To be ready when they break out. Ready and waiting._

* * *

The raft pulled in to a makeshift pier. The ferryman, Lucullus, looked at Sunny. “Get up girl,” he said. “Stay at the pier. Canyon Runner will come to take you to the training grounds.” Sunny nodded. “Yes, sir,” she said.

“That’s right,” Lucullus grinned. “Listen and obey, and you’ll be alright, at least until you’re sold.” A man walked to the pier. Hair close cropped. A Blackfoot warrior wearing the uniform of the legion. “I am Canyon Runner, woman,” he said. “You will come with me,” he said.

He removed the bomb collar from Sunny’s neck. “Obey, and you need not wear the collar,” he said. “Resist, and your head will be removed, by my blade.”

Sunny bowed her head. “I understand, master,” she said. Canyon Runner smiled. “Where did we get this one from?” he asked the ferryman. “A profligate trader, sir,” replied Lucullus. “Degenerates,” Canyon Runner replied, sneering. He glanced at Sunny. “Follow,” he said.

Sunny followed Canyon Runner uphill, to a wide area with a platform at the back. Pens lay to one side, tents on the other. He directed her to the pens. A legionary shoved a rough brown tunic at her. “Strip,” Canyon Runner commanded. “You will wear a slave’s clothes, though you do not deserve the name.”

Sunny nodded. She pulled off her clothes, the desert air breathing hot against her skin. “Here you will stay, as livestock might,” Canyon Runner said. “When you have shown you can learn, you will live in the tents, like a proper slave.” “Yes, sir,” replied Sunny.

Canyon Runner grinned. “Keep that tongue sweet, and we’ll find a good home for you, woman,” he said. Sunny walked into the pens, the door shutting behind her with a clang.

Sunny woke, shaken awake by an older woman. Sunny looked at her. Sharp blue eyes and graying hair. A body lean and toned by hard work. “I am Miriam,” the woman said. “I am eldest here. Eat quickly. You will come with me for training.”

Miriam shoved a bowl of corn porridge at her, motioning for her to eat. Sunny gratefully shoveled the food into her mouth, fingers sticky. Miriam passed her a waterskin. “Drink,” she said. “The day is hot, and work is long.”

Miriam leg Sunny out of the pen, towards a long tent. “Here are the cook fires,” said Miriam. “You will help prepare the food. Listen, and do as you are told quickly.” Several large pots lay over a large charcoal fire, stew and spiced chili bubbling inside.  Meat sizzled and sputtered over a large steel grate. Corn grilled in its husks over the fire, potatoes and carrots nearby.

“You will tend the pots, and serve the men as they enter the tent,” said Miriam. She motioned to a line of wooden tables nearby. “Serve them well, and do not anger them.” “Yes, Miriam,” said Sunny. “They may lay hands on you,” Miriam cautioned. “If they do, you must let them. A slave has no will here.”

* * *

Days passed as Sunny worked, learning to serve the troops. Tending the cookfires and cleaning. The labor a numbing routine, as the women served the warriors, day in and out.

Another hot day. Sunny worked in the kitchen, her mind numb. The heat of sun and cookfires draining the energy from her tired muscles. Legionnaires filed into the tent, taking food from her hands as she served the tables. She pushed her lank hair from her forehead as another group of warriors sat.  Balancing places and bowls, she hurried to serve the men.

A centurion leered at her as she delivered the food. “Well, a new face,” he smirked. “They’re putting you to good use, though I can think of others.” “Sir,” Sunny said, keeping her head down. “Oh, a shy one, eh? he said. “We can fix that soon enough.”

He ran a hand roughly up Sunny’s thigh. “Please sir,” said Sunny. “I’ve work to do.” “I’ve got a better use for you,” the centurion said, eyes cruel. “Serving beneath me.” His hand tightened.

Sunny yelped, dropping a bowl of hot stew on the man. “Clumsy bitch!” he said, slapping her hard. Sunny’s ears rang. “Time for you to know your place.” He rose, fingers tight in Sunny’s hair, dragging her from the table. The other men laughed harshly. With a quick jerk, he tore the tunic from Sunny, exposing her.

He threw Sunny to the ground, falling upon her. “No!” Sunny screamed. The centurion parted her legs, a hand at her throat, choking. Sunny scratched at him, desperately. A fist clubbed her above the eye. Sunny fell back, senses reeling. _“_

_Not this, no, please…_

A heavy sound of a boot meeting flesh. The weight suddenly removed from Sunny’s body. She opened her eyes, groggy. The centurion lay sprawled in the dirt. He quickly rose to his feet, eyes glaring. A man stood before him. Short cropped brown hair. Hands on his hips. Blue eyes cold, arrogant.

“You act like a dog, even if you are Caesar’s.” he said. “Leave the girl, your sport interrupts my meal.”

“You’ll tell me nothing!” the centurion hissed, drawing a machete. He leapt at the man, face red with fury.

The interloper smiled, dodging a slash at his stomach. He pulled a slim knife from his waist, darting close. Driving the knife between the officer’s ribs, into his heart. Sunny’s attacker fell to his knees, collapsing in the dirt. Sunny stared, eyes wide.

“A foolish challenge,” the man mused, looking at the corpse. He looked at Sunny, eyes mocking. 

“Learn well, little one,” he said. “Submit and live, resist and die. Any slave should know this.”

He pulled a cloak from the dead man. “Cover yourself,” he commanded. Sunny wrapped the bloody cloak around her. “What…what is your name, sir?” Sunny asked. “Still here?” the man chuckled. “My name is Vulpes Inculta,” he replied, leaving with a wave.

Miriam approached as the man departed. “Stupid girl!” she whispered. “You could’ve been killed.” “Why did that man save me?” asked Sunny. “He didn’t,” replied Miriam. “He just didn’t want the fool rutting in the dirt while he ate.”

“Who is he?” Sunny said, nodding at her savior.

“Vulpes Inculta, head of the frumentarii, Caesar’s spymaster,” said Miriam. “The most dangerous man in the Legion.” “But he helped me,” Sunny said.

“Vulpes is a man known for his whims,” said Miriam. “Be careful, now that you’ve gained his notice.” Sunny nodded, watching the slim man fade into the crowd.

* * *

Veronica walked to the kitchens, faint with hunger. The laundry had been hot and busy, the soapworks like a furnace in the summer heat. A sudden conflict broke out ahead. Two warriors fighting over a woman, it seemed. The smaller man quickly dispatched the other with a knife. As Veronica walked closer, she saw the woman on the ground, naked, wrapped in a bloody cloak.

_Impossible. Sunny, how did she get here?_

Veronica stumbled over to her, eyes suddenly tearing. “Why?” she said. “Why are you here? I wanted you to be safe!”

Sunny turned, her eyes widening. “Veronica!” she cried. Throwing herself against the other woman. The bloody cloak falling away from her. They fell together, arms tight around one another. “I had to come, I had to,” she whispered. “I couldn’t leave you here alone. I couldn’t.”

Veronica felt Sunny’s body pressed against her, skin warm beneath her fingers. She blushed, averting her eyes. “Uh, you’re going to have to get some new clothes,” she said, embarrassed.

“I will,” Sunny said, picking up the cloak. “Please, come to me later. I’m on the other side of the training grounds, in the first tent.”

Evening fell, and Veronica walked across the training grounds to Sunny’s tent. Sunny waited inside, sitting on her pallet, brushing her hair. Veronica sat beside her. “Why did you come?” Veronica asked. “You were in the clear, at the top of the hill. There’s no way they could’ve caught you unless…”

Veronica fell silent. “What did you do, Sunny?” she asked. “I gave myself up to them,” Sunny replied. “Boone helped me. I came here to help you escape.”

“Why?” asked Veronica. “How could you put yourself in danger like that?” “I had to. I couldn’t bear the thought of you being here,” said Sunny. “The thought of you suffering. Of being alone,” she said.

“Sunny, there’s no way out of here,” said Veronica. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“No!” said Sunny. “I couldn’t leave you behind. You can’t expect me to abandon you! I won’t do it!” Sunny said, eyes damp with tears. “How do you expect us to leave?” Veronica said. “We can’t buy our way out. We have no weapons, we have no allies. What do we do?”

Sunny looked at Veronica. Her voice lowered, cautious. “Maybe there’s a way to get those things,” said Sunny.  “By offering to help them. By giving them something they want. By letting them think they can control you.”

“Making a deal, you mean,” replied Veronica. “Exactly,” said Sunny. “And the bait is written right here on your skin.” Sunny pulled the strap of Veronica’s tunic down, exposing one shoulder. A figure in black ink revealed. A sword over gears and wings. The sigil of the Brotherhood of Steel.

Sunny stroked the tattoo, gazing into Veronica’s eyes. “I know you can do this. I know _we_ can do this,” she said. “Because the alternative isn’t a world I want to live in. I had to come, because I can’t imagine living my life without you in it.”

Sunny leaned forward, capturing Veronica’s lips gently. Her arms pulling her close as they fell to the pallet together.

* * *

Veronica walked towards the command tent, bowing to a praetorian outside. “Sir,” she said. “I have information for Vulpes Inculta.” “What is your information,” said the guard. “It is for his ears alone, sir,” replied Veronica. The guard stared at Veronica, then nodded. “Wait here slave,” he said. “Be warned, if you waste his time, you will be punished.” Veronica waited, kneeling on the ground outside Caesar’s tent.

After a few moments, Vulpes appeared. He looked at the Veronica, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t recall calling for a slave to entertain me, although you are rather pretty,” he said. “But the praetorian mentioned information. And _that_ I do have time for.” “Sir,” Veronica said. “I have something to show you.” “Oh, what is that?” replied Vulpes. “Please remove my top.” answered Veronica. “Well aren’t you a saucy little thing,” grinned Vulpes. “Please sir. It will only take a moment,” replied Veronica.

Vulpes looked at Veronica, his eyes curious. He stepped behind Veronica. Gently sliding the straps of her tunic down, pulling it to her waist. “On my shoulder blade, sir,” murmured Veronica. Vulpes gazed at Veronica’s skin, the tattoo exposed. “The Brotherhood of Steel,” whispered Vulpes. He paused, tracing the symbol with delicate fingertips. “Interesting,” Vulpes said. “I find myself intrigued. What do you mean to gain by this?” he asked. “A patron,” replied Veronica. “That sounds... fascinating,” replied Vulpes, his voice husky. Still stroking the tattoo.

* * *

Veronica stood before Lucius, commander of the praetorian guard. Sunny by her side. “I want to make a deal,” she said. “For the two of us. A trade of skills and knowledge.”

“Exactly what skills and knowledge are you discussing?” asked Lucius. “I am a scribe in the Brotherhood of Steel. I bring knowledge of all technical and scientific areas. Medicine, computers, weapons, and more besides.” “What do you want in return?” asked Lucius. “Better treatment, better living conditions,” answered Veronica.

“Why would you betray your brothers?” replied Lucius. “The life of a slave is hard,” said Veronica. “I want a better life for myself and Sunny.”  “And why would we include the woman in this bargain?” asked Lucius. “She is important to me, my _amans_ , as you in the Legion would say.” replied Veronica.

“Your lover,” smirked Vulpes. “My, that does fly in the face of Legion decree. Usually women are breeders, or entertainment here.”

“And why would we agree to this?” asked Lucius. “I can improve your weapons, your defenses, your hospitals, and many other things,” answered Veronica.

“An interesting proposal,” nodded Lucius. “We could perhaps consider it.”  “True,” said Vulpes.  “Your knowledge would be a significant resource.” “But how can we be sure of you?” asked Lucius.

“Why, her _amans_ will be her bond,” said Vulpes. “As long as you serve us, Veronica, you may retain dear Sunny’s company. If not, the outcome would be...unfortunate.”

“Do we have a bargain?” Lucius said, eyes on Veronica. “If you use your knowledge to assist the Legion, both of you will remain safe, as our guests.”

“I will submit to your terms,” replied Veronica. “The terms are quite generous, under the circumstances,” said Vulpes.

“I’ll help you,” said Veronica. “But I want our own tent, with privacy. And better food and clothes.” Lucius nodded. “Agreed,” he said. “Your first duty will be solving a problem with our artillery.”

* * *

“Well, the tent’s nicer, and so is the food,” said Sunny, laying back on their bed’s mattress. “The bomb, not so much.” Sunny fingered the bomb collar around her neck. “Of course, they put this back on,” she grumbled.

“They said they’d take it off, as soon I prove myself,” said Veronica. “And you believe them?” asked Sunny. “Well… no,” replied Veronica. “So, you’re going to fix their big guns, and do what else?” snorted Sunny. “Build them pulse weapons, make them power armor?” “We just need to keep them happy until we find a way to escape!” said Veronica, frustrated.

“As soon as I step outside the Fort, this thing goes off,” said Sunny. “They have a proximity fuse on it. I cross the wall, and ‘bang’!”

“As soon as I get some tools, I’ll find a way to disarm it,” soothed Veronica. “You should just go,” replied Sunny. “Before they change their minds. You know they will.”

“I’m not leaving you, Sunny,” answered Veronica. “Why?” asked Sunny. “I don’t want you getting hurt, it’s better off if I stay and you…” “No!” said Veronica. “I’d rather stay here than leave you.”

“They’re not going to honor their bargain,” said Sunny. “As soon as they have what they need, we’re dead, or in chains.” “I know that,” breathed Veronica. “Leave, Veronica, please. For me,” pleaded Sunny.

Veronica crawled onto the bed, straddling Sunny. She bent down, kissing her softly. “There’s no point in leaving if my heart stays here,” she said, eyes tearing. Sunny pulled Veronica down, arms tight around her waist. “I know,” she breathed. “I know. I just don’t want _me_ to be the reason you’re hurt.”

* * *

The noon sun was high, beating down upon Fortification Hill. Veronica stood before a rusting 105mm howitzer. Sunny stood by her, sorting through a box of parts, dumping some into a bucket of cleaning solvent.

“How long are we going to keep doing this? We’ve been trying to fix this thing for days.” said Sunny. “Until we have a chance to leave,” answered Veronica. “I hope it comes soon,” said Sunny. “I’ve had about enough of this place.”

Veronica looked at the field gun. “What a piece of junk,” she sighed. “It’ll probably blow up in our faces if we do try to fire it.”

“Hopefully not, since you’ll be the one testing it,” interrupted Lucius, walking towards her.

Another man stood by his side. Dark skinned, hair twisted into wiry locks, framing a hard face. His deep brown eyes flickered with interest. “This is Ulysses,” said Lucius. “One of our agents. He has brought materials for your work.”

Ulysses set a large box on the ground. “In the Divide, many things of the Old World remain,” he said. “These parts will help repair the gun.” “What of the ammunition?” Veronica asked. “That we have in plenty,” said Lucius. “Finish this work. Ulysses has found other things for you repair, so we can keep our… arrangement” Lucius walked away, face smug.

Ulysses remained, watching. He jerked his head at Sunny. “The woman chains you to this place,” he said. He shook his head. “The Bull will only take, until you have no more to give.”

“I know,” replied Veronica. “But I cannot leave this place alone. We leave as one, or not at all.” Ulysses nodded, hard eyes approving. “There are tools in the box. Tools of the Old World. For guns, for electronics…  for explosives,” he said, eyes alighting on Sunny. “Use them well.”

“Don’t you work for Caesar?” Sunny asked.  

Ulysses scoffed. “That is what they believe. But they are mistaken,” he said.  “The road I walk is my own. And it leads to neither Bull nor Bear.” He swept his hand over the horizon. “Once this land lived under one banner, from sea to sea,” he said. “The one I bear upon my back.”

The image of a flag lay printed on Ulysses’ coat. A striped field of red and white, with a canton of blue, bright with stars. “I will make that past our future, with my own hands. A future larger than the Bear, greater than the Bull.”

“How?” asked Sunny.  “A storm,” Ulysses said. “And it will sweep this land clear. Cleanse it, so the future may take root. It’s best you leave while you can.” He turned, leaving them.

* * *

The tent was quiet. The soft yellow light of a lantern glowing, casting shadows on the cloth walls. “Ulysses was right,” said Veronica. “We have to leave soon, before the Legion breaks its deal.”

She pulled out a small set of tools. “These should work on the bomb collar,” she said. “I’ll have to open it up and cut the leads to the explosive charge.” “Without setting it off,” reminded Sunny. “We’re only going to get one chance at this,” Veronica said. “If I fail, then that’s it. We’re both dead.” “I understand,” said Sunny. “Are you ready?” asked Veronica.

“Wait a minute,” said Sunny. “I… I just want to say something to you, first.” Veronica nodded. “Okay, go ahead,” she said.

“In case this doesn’t go right,” Sunny said. “I just want to tell you, I want you to know.” “What?” asked Veronica.

“I love you,” said Sunny. “I love you so much.” She paused, eyes glimmering with tears. “The last few months, they’ve meant… they’ve meant _everything_ to me. _You’ve_ meant everything to me,” she said. “And if this is to be our last moment together, our last on this Earth, I want you to know that. How much better my life has been, simply because you’ve been in it.”

Sunny looked at Veronica. “I never thought I could feel this way, could be this happy. But I am, even here, because you’re with me.”

Veronica pulled Sunny close, caressing her hair, kissing her tear stained cheeks. She leaned against Sunny, feeling the slow beat of Sunny’s heart against her own. “I Iove you,” she said. “I love you Sunny.”

“I didn’t think I could be like this with someone else.” Veronica paused, resting her head against Sunny’s. “Not having to hide my heart, or guard my words, or wonder if my feelings were accepted. And it’s all because of you,” she said.

Veronica kissed Sunny, hands tangling in her long brown hair.

“Just a little while,” said Sunny. “Just a little while, let’s stay like this.” Veronica nodded, pulling her to the mattress. They lay there, lost in the comfort of each other’s arms.

* * *

Veronica rose from the bed. She walked quietly to the tent flap, peering outside. The moon was high in the sky. The camp below quiet, bathing in its glow.  “It’s time,” she said. She touched Veronica's shoulder, rousing her. “Are you ready?” she asked. Sunny nodded. Veronica retrieved her tools. She sat beside Sunny, carefully inspecting the bomb collar.

With a tiny screwdriver, Veronica opened the small box holding the collar’s explosive charge. The gray putty of plastic explosive was revealed inside. A wireless detonator lay beside the wad of putty.  This sent the remote signal to the blasting cap. The blasting cap had to be removed, so the bomb would not explode. Two wires lead from the detonator to a small round device inside in the putty. The cap.

_Here goes._

Taking a pair of wire cutters, Veronica snipped the wires leading to it. With her fingers, she pulled the cap free. “Done,” she breathed.

“Okay,” said Veronica. “Now the hard part. Getting out of here.” “I think Boone was right,” Sunny said. “We should go over the fence and head southwest towards the river.” “Then what?” asked Veronica. “We follow the river to a bridge or ford downstream,” said Sunny.

“Okay,” said Veronica. “We’ve got no weapons, except these.” She showed Sunny two six-inch awls, the tools razor sharp, giving one to her. “Any other weapons we’ll have to take from the guards.”

Sunny passed Veronica a brown woman’s shawl, taking another for herself. “These will help hide our faces,” she said. They put the garments on. Veronica nodded. “Okay,” Veronica said. “It’s time.” She shut off the lantern, bathing the tent in darkness.  They paused by the tent flap, listening. No guards nearby.

Veronica led Sunny outside. They crept west, across the camp, making for the perimeter. A short wall of junk and barbed wire lay ahead. Taking off her shawl, she draped it over the fence. She pulled herself over the fence, dropping to the other side. Sunny followed. They headed downhill, towards the river.

Sunny stopped, holding one hand up. She motioned ahead.

Veronica looked.

A legionnaire stood ahead, cupping a cigarette in his hand, trying to stay awake.

_Lucky. If he wasn’t smoking, we’d never have noticed him._

Sunny ghosted ahead, makeshift dagger in her hand. She rose swiftly, choking off the man’s voice as she punched the awl into his back three times. Sunny lowered the dead warrior to the ground.

She paused, stripping the man of weapons. A repeater and a .357 revolver. Sunny handed the revolver and some ammunition to Veronica, keeping the rifle. They descended to the river, taking cover in the scrub and rocks by the shoreline. Slowly, carefully, they worked their way downstream, following the river. The sound of voices and barking hounds erupted from the hill. A horn sounding in the camp. _Pursuers._ The women broke into a run, fleeing.

* * *

Craig Boone was having a miserable night. Not surprising, considering he’d been camping opposite the Fort for days now. The moon played upon the water of Lake Mead. It’s silver light glistening on the surface. He watched through his night scope, looking for signs of disturbance in Caesar’s camp. As he had done for the last five nights. He wondered if the women were still alive. If they would be able to free themselves.

He hoped so.

He’d borrowed this rifle from a friend, at Ranger Station Alpha. A .50 caliber AMR, with night scope. He’d need the extra punch, if he was to help the women when they broke out. They’d have to come down the hill, to get away from the camp. Once they were by the river, this rifle would be in range of the pursuers. He could at least give the women a head start.

Lights sprang up in the camp. A horn sounding across the water. Boone scanned the hillside, and the water’s edge. There. He spotted them. Sunny and Veronica, fleeing down the riverbank, heading south. Legion warriors pursuing them. Getting closer.

Boone sighted in. A Decanus, leading the trackers. Boone centered the rifle’s reticule on the man’s chest and fired. The throaty roar of the rifle echoed across the water. The Decanus fell, spun by the heavy round.

Boone quickly selected another target. A rifleman, raising a repeater to fire. Boone fired again, dropping his target. Another legionary charged the fugitives. Boone aimed low, squeezing the trigger. The man’s armor useless against the .50 caliber slug.

The women reached the dam, passing it, heading down into the river valley. Boone hefted the rifle onto his shoulder, grabbing his pack.

_It’s up to them now._

* * *

Veronica and Sunny ran, down the riverbank, scrabbling over the rough stone and hardpacked sand. The rough cries of Legion trackers getting closer.

Veronica glanced behind her. A man raised his rifle to fire.

 _Shit. Here it comes._  

A booming shot rolled across the river. A legion officer whirled and fell.

A sniper?

A second shot. Another enemy dropped.

_Boone, it has to be. He’s covering our retreat._

Veronica grabbed Sunny’s hand, spurred on by Boone’s help. They quickly passed Hoover Dam as they ran, clambering into the dark valley below.

Sunny and Veronica hurried on, as stars wheeled overhead in the night sky. The riverbank leveled out ahead, turning from sandstone outcroppings, to wider, sloping beaches. The water flowed gently southward.

They ran, southward, following the river bank, pausing only for water or short rests. Until their bodies lay exhausted. At last, they stopped. A small crevice in the shoreline rocks their refuge. Curling together, their bodies seeking warmth, arms and legs tangled about each other as they lay in the sand.

Morning came slowly, the stars fading overhead in the deep blue sky. Veronica and Sunny walked down the riverbank. Up ahead, a faded sign read “Willow Beach”. Weathered buildings of a small town appeared, breaking through the morning shadow. Old homes and storefronts ragged, torn by battle.

A river crossing lay ahead. A raft by the shoreline, guarded by eight Legion warriors. Veronica crouched, surveying the crossing. “This is our chance,” she said. “While it’s still dark, we can take the raft from them.” “That’s four to one odds,” grimaced Sunny. “If we take them by surprise, we can even things out,” answered Veronica.

Veronica and Sunny edged towards the Legion bivouac. Three sentries paced, while the other troops rested. Veronica looked at Sunny, then nodded, opening fire. Two sentries fell, while the third dove for cover. The sleeping warriors tumbled out of their bedrolls, one falling to Sunny’s rifle. Veronica fired her heavy revolver, dropping another. A dark figure emerged from the gloom. A man. 

_Another?_

The newcomer flanked the Legion warriors, heavy pistols firing in each hand. Two fell, shredded by heavy rounds. Sunny’s rifle barked, and another warrior doubled over. The man fired again, the last Legion fighter falling before him.

The stranger turned, walking slowly towards Veronica and Sunny. Pistols held loosely at his sides. “It seemed you ladies needed some assistance,” the man said.

He stood before them, clad in black jeans and cowboy boots. A dark flak vest guarding his chest. A white shirt worn beneath. And bandages, everywhere bandages. Wound about his face and arms, peeking from under his shirt. Bright blue eyes peering from the mask of gauze covering his face.

“I was spying upon the Legion, when I saw your escape,” the man said. “I found your bravery… captivating. I wished to help.”

“Thank you,” said Veronica. “We appreciate your assistance.”

Sunny stared at the man. “The Burned Man,” she stammered. “It’s Joshua Graham.” “Who?” asked Veronica. “Joshua Graham. He was Caesar’s right hand. He helped found the Legion,” Sunny said. “But after the battle of Boulder, he was betrayed.”

Graham nodded, eyes sober. “Indeed. Once I was a scourge upon the land, the hand of Caesar’s wrath,” he replied. “Until I failed at Boulder and did not take Hoover dam.”

“What happened?” asked Veronica. “The NCR lured our forces into Boulder and led us towards the dam. When we entered the city, they set off explosives, destroying everything, ending our attack,” said Graham.

“As punishment, Caesar ordered me covered in pitch and set aflame. They cast me from the heights,” Graham said.

“I fell, burning, down the canyon wall. But I did not die,” he said. “Or rather, the man I _was_ died, only to be reborn. Reborn into my faith. A Danite, the sword of God against Caesar’s corruption.”

Graham checked his pistols, sliding fresh magazines into them. He brandished them. “The 1911 pistol, .45 caliber. Invented long ago by a kinsman of mine,” he said. “Worthy tools, to punish the Legion,” Graham mused. “By my own hands, Caesar will one day regret his mistake.” “What was that?” asked Sunny. “Leaving me alive,” said Graham, voice grim.

“Perhaps we should correct that mistake now?” a smooth voice replied.

Vulpes Inculta stepped out into the street. Graham greeted the newcomer. “Ah, Vulpes,” he said. “Ever the fox, hiding in shadow. Do you wish to challenge me?” Vulpes Inculta chuckled. “Not at all Joshua,” he said, idly holding a 10mm pistol. “I merely wished to give my salutations to the ladies. They have done me a great service.”

“How have we served you?” asked Sunny. “Your escape offered me an opportunity,” Vulpes said. “To embarrass Lanius, and gain favor with Caesar.”

“How?” asked Sunny. “The Legate’s men failed tonight,” replied Vulpes. “His failure is my gain.”  “Politics?” sneered Graham.

“Of course,” replied Vulpes. “Perhaps if you were better at it, you’d still have your skin, Joshua.” “Try nothing here, Vulpes,” warned Graham. “I offer these ladies safe passage across the river. My scouts surround this place.”

“Of course,” grinned Vulpes. “I have no desire to take them. Besides, the tale of the Burned Man’s return will be far more interesting to Caesar.” Vulpes smiled rakishly, bowing to the women. He turned and disappeared into the morning twilight.

“Now I must take my leave of you,” said Graham. “With the raft here, you can cross the river with ease. There are NCR camps not far beyond the river.” “Thank you, Mr. Graham,” said Sunny. “You’re welcome,” Graham replied, inclining his head. “Farewell, ladies.”

Joshua Graham walked east. The haze of the newly risen sun obscuring his form.

* * *

Sunny and Veronica walked to the raft. Veronica set the sweep oar in place. Sunny grabbed another and poled the raft out into the river’s current. Veronica steered, heading west across the river.

Veronica beached the raft on the west side of the river. They clambered up the sparsely grassed hills beyond the river, heading northwest. Off in the distance, they could see the watchtowers of Camp Forlorn Hope.

“There’s a place nearby we can rest.” Veronica said. She led Sunny down into a rocky gully overlooking the river. At the bottom a small steel hatch could be seen. Veronica opened it, revealing a ladder going down. “This bunker was used back when the Brotherhood and NCR were fighting,” she said. “It’s quiet and safe.” Veronica led the way down the ladder. Sunny followed.

The bunker opened up into a small set of rooms. Sleeping quarters lay inside. “There’s not much left here, but everything’s clean, and you can rest,” said Veronica.

Sunny sat down on one of the empty beds. She looked at Veronica, eyes pensive. “I can’t believe we did it,” she said. “I can’t believe we got away.” “We did,” smiled Veronica. “Because of you. Because you came for me.” “Of course, I did,” Sunny replied. “I had to find you, to bring you home.”

“Home?” asked Veronica, sitting beside Sunny. “Yes, home,” said Sunny. “Something you build together, share together. Spend a lifetime making.” “And you want that with me?” asked Veronica, voice trembling.

“More than anything,” answered Sunny. “That why I had to come for you. Because I couldn’t _have_ a home, without you beside me.” “Why?” asked Veronica. “Because, home isn’t just wood and walls, brick and mortar,” said Sunny. “It’s what you share with someone else. Someone special,” she said.

Veronica burst into tears, shoulders shaking. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you.” She leaned against Sunny, collecting herself. “Before you came, I felt so alone. Wishing for a place where I belonged. Wanting to find the person my heart belonged to,” she said. “And for a long time, I was afraid I’d never find that.”

Veronica gently touched Sunny’s face. “You took me by surprise, when I wasn’t looking,” she said. “And all I want is stay by your side: every day, every month, every year. To make a life that’s spent with you. Because I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”

Sunny kissed Veronica. Gently tracing her mouth with her own. Her hands came up, resting behind Veronica’s neck. “I love you,” she said, smiling gently.

Sunny grasped Veronica's hands, pulling her to the mattress. She stripped off her tunic. Offering herself. "Be with me," she said. Placing Veronica's hands on her skin.

“I want you to make love to me, Veronica,” Sunny said. “I want to feel your body next to mine, to feel your touch upon me,” she said. “I want you to make me yours. Can you please do that for me?” “Yes,” said Veronica, her voice soft.

Sunny peeled Veronica’s tunic off, revealing the pale expanse of skin beneath. She tossed the garments to the floor. Sunny lay beside her love, eyes smoldering. Fingers trembling against Veronica’s skin.

Veronica hungrily trailed kisses down Sunny’s throat and breasts. Moving slowly down her love’s body, brushing her belly with her lips. “Love you,” she murmured. Veronica sank lower, her breath tickling between Sunny’s legs. Her mouth descended, kissing, licking, tasting. Veronica lifted her eyes to Sunny’s. Her face flushed with desire. She raised one hand to her mouth, slipping her index and middle fingers inside. Veronica slowly sucked down their length, grinning at Sunny’s wide-eyed response. She pushed the slick fingers gently inside her lover. Moving them back and forth, increasing the tempo as Sunny rocked against her hand.  Veronica lowered her head. Her tongue teasing Sunny’s clit, as her fingers continued to thrust and curl. She watched as Sunny peaked, her body shuddering as she came undone, her walls tightening around Veronica’s fingers.

Sunny pulled Veronica into her arms, kissing her deeply. Panting with exhaustion, spent. “I love you so much,” she breathed. “Rest now, sweetheart,” Veronica whispered. “But don’t you want me to…?” Sunny asked. “That’s okay. We’ve got time, love,” said Veronica.

Sunny snuggled into Veronica’s arms, eyes luminous. “Time…” said Sunny, smiling softly. Lassitude taking over. “All m’life. Promise, ‘kay?” she mumbled, as her eyes drowsily fluttered.  “Promise,” said Veronica, brushing her lips over Sunny’s. Sunny turned towards Veronica, pulling her close. Her lips pressed to Veronica’s collarbone as she slowly fell asleep.

Veronica smiled as she lay in bed. Her eyes tracing each feature of her beloved’s face. Watching the rise and fall of each breath as she slept. Her fingers playing gently in Sunny’s hair. A sudden wave of joy suffused her, tears welling in her eyes. Her heart jubilant.

She was home.

 


End file.
